Protector of Men: The Matrix Reprise
by choirgrlalex
Summary: Complete. What if Neo chose the other door? What if Zion had to start all over again? And what if two generations of Zion never meant to know the truth met each other? New people, new One.
1. A Short Fall

Protector of Men Ch 1

Everything that has a beginning has an end. But every end, in turn, has a beginning. This is the story of Zandra. This is the story of a new Zion, and what happens when two generation that were never meant to meet, find out the truth. This is the story of the Protector of Men.

Zandra screamed as she fell. It was a long way down, leaving her ample time to panic. Her hair flapped and her clothes rippled as the skyline rushed by.

Her stomach lurched and the pavement grew closer. _No!,_ she screamed at herself, _falling too fast..._ Time seemed to move slowly for her as she descended ever rapidly, her final moment coming ever closer. Her arms waved frantically as she came to terminal velocity, still advancing on the ground. Her instinct had taken over, and her mind seemed devoid of all coherent thought. _Oh god, oh god, _she repeated, the thoughts echoing in her empty mind. Her eyes were transfixed on the pavement rising up to meet her. _Oh god, _She could see cars driving down the street below her, but was still only thinking of hitting the ground. She fell further. _No,_ she screamed again, flailing helplessly.

Everyone was there to see her out. Zandra sighed heavily as she sat back up in her deeply reclined seat. Cover, standing beside her, unstrapped her legs and began to walk over to the group of computer screens, where they all stood watching her intently. 

"You did _okay,_" Trim offered, hiding most of his small body behind a storage tank. Only the top of his head and his short dark hair could be seen. Cover gave him a dirty look and turned midi-stride back to face Zandra. He offered his hand to her; she accepted. 

"Like the rest will tell you," he stated, "we _all_ fall the first time." Shade, Kesia, and Alias nodded vigorously, while Trim just looked sheepish. Zandra was still disappointed, and retreated to her bunker without a word.

_Why can't I do this,_ she asked herself, plopping onto the side of her hard bed. Zandra wasn't used to failing, and the test had disturbed her. In her old life she had succeeded in just about everything she set her mind to do. She had herself convinced that all it _really_ took to be outstanding was the _resolve_ to succeed. Many had lauded her as talented, versatile, even a prodigy. So why couldn't she do this?

She had seen the program upload, so she _knew_ it wasn't real. _Right?_ Maybe she wasn't so sure anymore. Zandra had watched Cover do it - he was able to make the jump with room to spare. 

"Remember," he had said just before leaping, "It is all in your mind." 

His dreadlocks whipped around his head as he flew upwards – his arm waving once he had landed… But she _didn't_ remember, and didn't get ten feet across the gap before starting to fall. Instinct had taken over and she just plummeted, too panicked to even think. How would she train herself to be rid of _instinct_?

Perhaps it was something entirely different - perhaps her mind just wouldn't be able to handle it. Had she _really _used her mind in her old life at all? _Maybe this isn't for me_. But if it wasn't real, then why couldn't she trick herself into _understanding_ it? It seemed like an insurmountable feat to shut out her old life, even just _human_ instincts. _But, _she figured_ there are others that have done it... _and hastily she made up her mind to try again, to beat the system the next chance she got; Just not now.

She came out of her room hours later, but only because she was hungry. Hungry enough to eat, since the food was almost unbearable. Kesia was sitting at the table in the mess room and smiled when Zandra sat down.

"Just came out?" she asked as nicely as possible. Zandra simply nodded as she played with her watery food.

"You really don't need to worry," she said honestly, "everyone gets used to it, and it _is_ a big change."

"Tell me about it." Zandra took a gulp and tried not to visibly gag. Neither said anything for a while, and they finished eating in silence. Kesia got up to leave but paused briefly before walking out. She turned back to Zandra - but looked at the ground as she talked, as if afraid to look her in the eyes.

"If you want, I can load something... If you want to practice,"

"Practice?" Zandra snapped to attention. Kesia was already unsure of her offer, and now turned red. "Well," she stumbled, "I mean, I can load anything - you can do whatever..." she smiled at Zandra, weakly.

Zandra put away her bowl and spork, immediately following Kesia to the main deck.

It was the same area that she had been in before, except this time she was on the ground. Instead of her ill-fitting garb, Zandra was now wearing blue sweatpants with a white tank, her long blonde hair pulled up into a tight ponytail. Cars drove aimlessly by, birds soared in the air, it just all seemed so _real, so normal_...

_No, _she firmly reminded herself, _it's just a program_. Just like virtual reality… except a hundred years better. _Small steps then, _she thought to herself with a sarcastic laugh. 

She began to jog along the empty sidewalk, continually picking up her pace. Her long ponytail swung from side to side with each step. She constantly reminded herself that no matter _how_ real he concrete felt or _how_ dirty the gutters looked; it was _just_ a program. Just a very intricate, extremely complex program.

It had been a few minutes since she started, and her breath became labored as she continued to sprint faster. _No,_ she reminded herself again, _You're not tired from anything._ She pictured the ship, Purgatory, and remembered that she was _really_ only sitting in a chair up there. She pushed herself to run faster: _You can always push harder._ She took a deep breath and continued to sprint down the uneven pavement of the sidewalk, faster than before.

Back in Purgatory, Cover quietly joined Kesia in watching Zandra's progress. She was doing well, but not phenomenally. 

"How did she start?" he asked Kesia, his eyes still locked on the monitors.

"Well," she replied, "she started out pretty regular, but she's steadily increased for about ten minutes."

"Yes," he said blankly, "she's right over physical there," pointing to a screen of Zandra's vitals. Trim walked in and eyed the screens too, curious about Zandra's capabilities...

Her legs began to burn as she ran faster, and she resisted the all too common urge to slow down. It actually was nice for her to get to run if she would have thought about it - Zandra had always exercised in her old life to de-stress. And though her gait was fast, it was not _unnaturally_ fast. This was supposed to be just like a video game, not _real_. _Faster,_ she told herself. She decided to test her true limit of speed, a training method of her own creation. _Faster, faster_.

Cover watched with a smile as he recognized Zandra's quickened pace. Trim's eyes widened as he too witnessed the change. Zandra was past the 'boundary of the physical' now, running just as quickly as Trim could, maybe even faster.

But she couldn't hold it for much longer; five blocks was enough. It was too much, too painful to continue for another second. _No, don't stop..._ She yelled at herself, wanting so badly to slow down, to take a break. Her legs felt like they were about to give, and her throat hurt from her sharp breathing. Zandra wanted to collapse but continued to run nonetheless. The ground looked so comfortable, if she could only find something to trip on...

_No!_ She would not give in willingly, but she _had_ to! _This pain is most certainly real!_ Her breath came in painful gasps and her legs were stiff from overuse. It was too much to handle, and she slowed to a stop, bending over to try and catch her breath. She felt the involuntary rise in her throat, but was successful in keeping control of herself. Zandra knew the 'world' was fake but again found herself unable to keep in control. _It just felt so real,_ she countered, and was instantly more frustrated than before, angry that she had tried to justify her newfound weakness. Her eyes welled in exasperation, but she fought her personal instinct. Sweat dripped from her nose onto the dirty pavement.

Everyone was silent in Purgatory - they felt like they had witnessed something private. Cover was not at all surprised to see her break, but continued to watch Zandra with interest. She was intensely (and unnecessarily) frustrated, he could tell. Perhaps if it could be harnessed, her anger could actually _help_ her. After all, this was only the third time she had jacked into a program. By most standards, she was doing fairly well.

Kesia stared at the screen uncomfortably. She had never been in a program before, so she had no idea what Zandra was going through. But confrontation always made Kesia a little jumpy. When she had been unplugged Zandra had put up _enough_ of a fight, and every time she didn't succeed, didn't break the records, she became frustrated. Kesia shook her head in uneasiness, hoping that Zandra would be able to calm down once she was out. Silently, she waited for an order.

Trim was also uncomfortable. Standing behind the two, he looked from Cover to Kesia, but neither returned his glances. He held his mouth closed tight; his feet planted firmly on the floor. _Just don't open your mouth_. He was startled to feel a weight on his shoulder, but it was only Shade. He shot Trim a questioning look, but Trim didn't explain the situation, and Shade soon moved his hand. They all continued to watch the screens as Zandra went back to walking down the sidewalk.

She sighed as she pulled out the cellphone still in her sweatpants' pocket. _This is enough,_ she told herself_._ She flipped it open, immediately dialing Kesia. 

"Operator," 

"I'm ready," Zandra said, as politely as she could. Inside she was trying not to break down, she was so frustrated with herself.

"Okay," Kesia replied. Cover moved to where Zandra's immobile body lay and prepared to take out the needle. "We're getting you out."

The small world around Zandra suddenly became white, and she was back in Purgatory. Her heart dropped when she saw them there_._ _Again_, they had seen her fail. Zandra could feel her cheeks turning hot as Cover undid her bindings. And _again_, she left for her bunk without a word.

Shade found out from Trim that she was frustrated with her performance. Why was she always so disappointed with everything?

_Someone_ would have to speak to her.


	2. Reiteration

Protector of Men Ch 2

Shade knocked on the metal door. There was no answer, and he took it as a cue to go inside. He first opened the door only a crack to make sure that it was all right to go inside. Zandra lay in her bed, facing away from him. She didn't look that different without those close-fitting clothes, and Shade paused before continuing, distracted.

Zandra did not acknowledge that Shade had entered the room, and continued to stare glumly at the wall. She was embarrassed that someone had run by to try and speak with her. Had she really made a scene? If so, she would have to explain herself - again. She sighed, and reluctantly switched sides to meet the guest. It was Shade; her hopes of a painless conversation were dashed. She would have to explain herself to _him?_ Certainly she needed time to become truly comfortable around everyone, but it seemed like there was a barrier in front of him. 

"Hey," he said quietly, sitting on the ground next to the door. Zandra smiled faintly.

"Hey," she replied, equally quiet. "I guess I made quite a scene back there,"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. Zandra scoffed unbelievingly.

"You just set too high of goals for yourself."

"That's what I've done all my life," she replied, "that's how I work."

"This is different."

"How?"

"Your old life? That wasn't _real_,"

"Well it was to me for twenty two years."

Shade was quiet. He hadn't been with Purgatory until days before she was out; he had no idea what her life had been like beforehand. This time, curiosity got the best of him.

"How did they end up getting you out?" he asked, and regretted it instantly. Zandra looked blankly at the ceiling. She took a lengthy pause before answering. 

"It took a while."

"How long?" Again, he regretted opening his mouth. It was probably better to just be quiet, but he wasn't thinking.

"It was around a month before they finally took me out." She paused.

"Cover said that the system had begun to track me."

"So they took you out after a _month?_"

"Yeah. It would've taken longer, I was pretty reluctant for a while."

Both were silent for a moment. Zandra tried to run a hand through her hair, but remembered that she had none, and belatedly put her hand back on her stomach. It felt so unnatural.

"How did they contact you?"

"Actually Alias and Trim started to show up at my track meets, concerts, my physics class. It was kind of creepy, but they pretended that they were interested in a project of mine."

"A project?"

Zandra almost laughed. 

"Yeah, it was actually kind of funny, I thought they were trying to recruit me for the army or something." She continued to laugh inwardly. It turned out they _had_ been trying to recruit her for an army, but a very different army than she would have ever imagined.

Shade was quiet. Why in the world would they have found interest in a college physics project? He voiced his question to Zandra, but got an answer he did not expect. 

"I was trying to prove that information in the universe could be thought of as bits of information - like everything could have an infinitesimal amount of one's and zero's in it."

"How would you have found that out?"

"Oh," Zandra replied, "Some physicist in Europe thought that the universe was just a 'hologram' – well, something along those lines - and I just expanded on that idea."

Shade was a little shocked. 

"You found proof of the matrix?"

Zandra waited a moment before responding. 

"Kind of, but you could only see it in black holes. Not many people listened to me."

Both sat quietly, digesting the conversation. Something was still bothering Shade. "So you _never_ got into hacking?"

"No," Zandra replied honestly, "I did it once or twice to try it, but I never got into it really."

Silence again. 

"You know what bothers me the most though?"

"What?"

"Not knowing what you can do in the _real world_."

It had been eating away at her for the past week: if she had bent the rules with her achievements in the Matrix, how much of it was real? She wondered how fast she could run in the real world, how well she could concentrate, even how different she looked to others versus the real world. How much of her life had been fake? She hoped that Shade would have empathy for her, hoped that he at least _knew _what she was talking about… 

"Yeah," he sighed.

Zandra was relieved. _That's all I needed._ He then got up, intending to go.

"Seriously though," he said, reaching for the door, "Don't get down about that stuff. You're doing really well."

Zandra rolled her eyes. She should have known that this was coming. Soon her cheeks would be red again, and that was the _last _thing that she wanted.

"No, listen," he said solemnly, sensing her disbelief, "It takes time. It took me weeks to make the jump."

Zandra was silent. She hadn't heard anyone else mention _their_ first few tries in an upload. _Weeks?_ Shade left the room before she could reply, leaving her staring at the metal door, alone in the cold room, suddenly without anyone to talk to.

She continued to lay in bed, staring at the gray ceiling, scrutinizing the various spots of rust above her. _It doesn't _seem_ like the future,_ she thought to herself. She had always imagined that in the future, technology would be less obtrusive, more fitting with the environment. Purgatory seemed quite the opposite. With its thick bolted walls and weathered interfaces, the ship looked more like it belonged in the eighteenth century rather than the twenty-second. Everything seemed to be vintage; she pulled herself up from her bed and cracked her sore back.

She massaged her neck to try and soothe the dull pain, but stopped when she felt the plugs along her spine. It still was a little unsettling to feel them there - holes in her own body... Made by a machine... _Don't think about it,_ she told herself.

Her legs ached with tenderness as she got to her feet. She guessed that it was from the 'run' she had done earlier - Cover _had_ warned her that an injury in any program would cause the same in the real world - but how had her body _created_ lactic acid to make her legs hurt? It was a mystery that she was not willing to investigate.

She stretched briefly before opening the door again. Zandra felt like wandering around, maybe she'd eventually get hungry and have to eat again.

"Zandra?"

Alias peered from around a corner, and smiled when their eyes met.

"I thought I heard you,"

"Yeah."

"So, ah," Alias started again, "I hear you did some more practice,"

"Yeah... yeah I did."

She felt another coddling session coming on, and almost dreaded to imagine what Alias would say next...

"Well then, it sounds like you're ready for some training then." Alias stepped into the corridor, now facing Zandra head-on.

"Training?" Zandra repeated. She thought that she had been 'training' all day. What could _this _be?

"Well of course," Alias replied, "how do you think we _learn_ everything we have to do?"

Zandra was nonplussed. She spoke in a small voice when she replied, unsure of what to say…

"By practicing?"

Alias laughed.

"No, it's a direct upload!" 

Zandra was silent, still confused. 

"Come on," she continued, taking Zandra's wrist in her hand, "it'll only take a _few_ hours."


	3. Education

Protector of Men Ch 3

Zandra was exhausted. She had been in the 'training' upload for over five hours, and was ready to rest. There was just so much _there,_ so much new information; her head swam with detritus. She wanted to try out her new skills, she wanted to fix, to recite, to drive, even to _fight_ - but she was too tired. Even as she trudged back to her bunk she felt her eyelids drooping and had to fight to stay awake. It had been a _long_ day, and she immediately fell asleep once hitting the bed.

She was back at home, her old home, showing her new project to a group of scientists. It wasn't much, but Zandra smiled as they eyed her data sheets and pictures warily. She stood proudly behind a tall table with its stereotypical white sheet, hoping that someone would ask her a question. 

"So ma'am," one scientist started, crossing his arms, "what exactly is the point of your project?"

Zandra could tell he didn't quite believe her idea. 

"It's an expansion on Dr. Roberts' research on the topic of universal holograms," she explained. The man's eyebrows raised unbelievingly. 

"But I am focusing on how both Einstein and quantum theory clash with their ideologies if you think of matter as a bunch of information – say, _bits_ of information."

"Impressive," a man said, emerging from the crowd. He looked a bit out of place in the mass of scientists – he was wearing only a suit – _maybe a recruiter…_ "But do you have an application for this?"

Zandra, though put off by the man's stiff appearance, had rehearsed the question many times before. 

"For now, a useful application would be harnessing the entropy of these for microcomputers. The possibilities would be endless,"

The man tilted his head and left without a word. _How strange…_

"Hey," came a voice from her left. It was Stephen, the one friend that never got away. He smiled and offered her a Coke while he joined her behind the white table. 

"Thanks,"

"So those two didn't decide to come today?" he asked with a smile. Zandra rolled her eyes.

"Not yet," she started, "But who knows. I tell ya,"

"Quite the interesting pair, I've seen,"

"Tell me about it! You should have seen the guy who came in here just a second ago," she continued, "All kinds…"

People continued to browse her information, but the crowd was beginning to thin. Stephen laughed quietly as Zandra shook her head. _All kinds…_

There was a loud rapping at the door. Zandra woke up instantly, and almost lost her balance trying to get to the door. Still bleary eyed, she opened it a crack to see who it was. 

"Yes?"

"Asleep?" It was Trim, sniggering in the hall.

"What?"

"It's nearly noon."

Zandra was immediately alert. 

"You might want to eat," he continued, "I think you're doing some practice today."

"Oh."

Her heart fell, and Zandra prayed that maybe this practice would be different. _No,_ she told herself, _it WILL be different_.

She followed Trim silently to the mess room. She heard quiet voices drifting down the hall - it sounded like Cover and Alias.

"... As an aid to the Mayflower..."

"...only if necessary..."

"... Make the - "

The voices stopped abruptly as Trim and Zandra entered the room. Both Cover and Alias smiled as they came in, remembering to greet them politely. Zandra tried not to look curious, but found it hard. Either way, neither Cover nor Alias divulged any part of their conversation, and she guessed correctly that they probably shouldn't.

"Ready for another busy day?" Alias asked her, smiling fiendishly.

"We are hoping you'd like to try out some of your combat techniques today," Cover added. Zandra was surprised to find herself excited at the idea. 

"Sure," she offered. 

"Good," Cover added, "You'll want to eat something now."

And they left, leaving Zandra alone to eat and prepare.

She pulled out a bowl with a spork from an iron cabinet and mentally prepared herself for the grotesque excuse for nourishment she was about to eat. Lumpy liquid from a pipe connected to the ceiling fell into Zandra's bowl with a splash. She only took a little, thinking she wouldn't eat much. _It's watery oatmeal,_ she tried to convince herself. It didn't work. She almost gagged as she shoved some of the goop down her throat. _Just **believing** it's something different won't help you here,_ she reminded herself with a small smile.

Meanwhile Cover was speaking with Kesia and Shade in the control room. Both watched him intently as he described his plan to them.

"So you will contribute?" he asked the two. Both nodded silently.

"Shade, do you understand what you will have to do for this?"

"Yes,"

Kesia found courage and cut in, "Are you sure?" she asked Cover.

"As much as I can be. Be ready."

Back in the mess room, Zandra continued to gag and sputter her way through her food. Halfway done, she decided to give up. She wasn't _that _hungry anyway. Zandra threw her half-empty bowl into the self cleaner and walked out to where the chairs were. 

Only Kesia was there to see her in. She briefly explained the deal: Zandra would 'jack-in' to this environment, and Kesia would upload different levels of programs for her to fight. It should be easy, Kesia reassured.

"Right,"

Zandra sat back in the chair and tried to relax as she was strapped in. Yet, she still dreaded the feeling she got when the needle went in. It was like the shots she used to get, but without the nostalgia. In this world, the needles were inserted into her head.

"Let's go."


	4. Preparedness

Protector of Men Ch 4

When she opened her eyes again, she was in a room, in an entryway to a house. Or perhaps it was a mansion.

Zandra found herself standing next to a bookcase, at its end a table lay that held the phone she just jacked in with. Ahead of her a sofa sat facing away from her, surrounded by two overstuffed chairs. A fireplace faced the group, its chimney reaching all the way to the ceiling, which was thirty feet up. Near the bookcase, to her right, was a rusty spiraling staircase that led to a loft. She thought she could see billiards tables up there. Here eyes fell back down to the ground, where she noticed more bookcases next to the staircase. Directly above her was a dusty chandelier, giving off an eerie glow in giant room. There were Persian rugs and old world trinkets _everywhere_. Zandra was confused. _I'm supposed to fight in here?_ Maybe Kesia had made a mistake.

She walked over to the couch and gazed towards the loft. Yes, those were billiards tables. Zandra found herself kneading the couch with her knuckles, and was suddenly surprised at how soft the it felt.

"Feels real, doesn't it," said a voice behind her. Zandra whipped around, confused. She had expected Kesia to tell her when to start, when the program would assimilate a machine to fight her. 

"But it's not," Shade said, approaching her. He stopped, five feet short of where she stood. What was he doing? It took a moment, but Zandra soon realized what he was there to do.

"No," she said quickly, alarmed. Shade looked puzzled. 

"No," she repeated, eyes wide, "Kesia said it would be easy..." She began to back away from Shade, but bumped into one of the chairs before getting far. He smiled apologetically.

"I'll go easy,"

Zandra gulped. She steeled herself, getting ready for the fight, anticipating the inevitable end.

"Really," he reiterated. She mentally sighed. Zandra was tired of being told that she was doing _ok_, she was doing _fine_; she didn't want to be coddled during training.

"Fine," she retorted, ready to get it over with. She was tired of everything. "Hit me then."

Shade gave Zandra a look of uncertainty, but she gave him no recognition. He had no choice.

Before Zandra knew he had moved, he was in the air soaring towards her. She moved to run right, but before she could move a foot Shade had knocked her to the ground. She skidded a few feet before at last coming to a stop on the wooden floor.

Zandra winced in pain; her skin burned from skidding on the polished wood. _It doesn't hurt,_ she yelled at herself, but only mumbled the words. Shade stood only inches away, doing nothing but looking down on her from above. Zandra was embarrassed that she had been beaten so early. _It doesn't hurt,_ she told herself again through clenched teeth. Shade held out his hand, offering to help her up, but she didn't move. _How dare he._

_It's not over yet._

Immediately she swung around and kicked away his hand so hard that he was sent stumbling backwards, landing in one of the puffy chairs. Shade was taken aback, but accepted the changed situation readily. Cover had warned him that she might do this.

As he pulled himself out of the chair, Zandra shot past him and up the circular staircase. He followed. Zandra was lucky she had a head start, because as of then, he was much faster than she was. 

_Quick_,she told herself, _you are faster!_ Upon reaching the first billiards table, she turned back, a feeling of dread erupting when she saw Shade right behind her. She was going to try and land a punch, but Shade did it first, sending her stumbling into the wall behind her. 

Shade hesitated again. He hated to see her in pain, but she wasn't being particularly nice about the whole thing, either. Anyway, she had to get trained _somehow_, and Shade had been deemed the one to do it.

Zandra's abdomen throbbed with pain. She had been caught by surprise, and silently vowed never to let it happen again. Glancing to her left, she noticed a few pool cues on a rack next to her.

It was Shade's turn to be surprised as Zandra raced back at him with the pool cue. She would not be shamed again! He jumped onto the pool table, but Zandra was a step ahead of him. Taking the cue in both of her arms, she swung the cue like a sword and knocked Shade off his feet. Belatedly he tried to jump over the cue, but in doing so, the low fan above him knocked him soaring back into the cue rack, which then fell with a crash. She had an opportunity to escape, and in taking it, she jumped on the stair railing to get back to the ground. _So fast,_ she thought to herself as she spiraled closer to the ground, the room circling around her in a whirl. After diving into a somersault, she was able to stop her momentum and stood next to the couch awaiting Shade's attack.

What she saw next amazed her. Shade completely skipped the steps, but jumped straight to the ground from the loft as if it were nothing. _You can do that too,_ she reassured herself. Shade was approaching her quickly, and she knew that she would have to try and fight 'mono-a-mono' until she had another opening. _Anticipate,_ she told herself. He came up to her with his fists already flying. She was able to block one, two, _it's just too fast,_ three...

Everything stopped. Shade had his balled fist in front of her face. The room was totally silent - neither of them moved. _Checkmate._

What was he trying to be, _a gentleman?_ This was a _fight,_ meant to teach her about _fighting_. _You won't hit me?_ She questioned silently, _we'll see..._

A moment later, Shade was lying on the ground. It took him a second to register what had just happened - she was gutsier than he thought. Zandra stood motionless a moment longer, her outstretched leg still in the air_._

She then took her next opportunity to flee as he got back up. Turning around, she ran as fast as she could towards the telephone. She stepped onto the table and leapt off of it, aiming for the top of the bookcase. She barely made it, but she was up, though still weaponless.Shade was not far behind. He was angry now, he _wanted_ to knock her down, show her what he could _really _do. She was waiting as he leapt up to the bookcase, and was somewhat delighted to see the shocked look he wore when Zandra kicked him across the room. He hit the chimney at ten feet and landed hard on the ground. Zandra smiled; she felt ready to try the offensive.

She leapt off the bookcase and landed with only a slight thud. The phone rang behind her, but she was reluctant to turn her back on Shade. This was still a fight-or-flight situation. 

It rang again, and she still did not move. Shade was getting up from the ground, kicking away bits of the chimney that had been knocked off. The phone rang a third time. 

"Let's _go_," he said, walking up to her - she prepared for another attack - and walking past her, resting his hand on the old telephone.

"We're done here, I'm finished."

With that, Shade answered the phone and disappeared. Zandra too approached the phone and waited for it to ring again.

Was he mad? He shouldn't have been hurt, it was only a program. He could have at least _congratulated _her on being able to land a kick - it _was_ her first combat training...

So why was he mad?

The phone rang again. This time, she answered it on the first ring. 


	5. Feeling Unwanted

Protector of Men Ch 5

Cover was again in the Matrix, this time assisting a recruitment for another ship, the Mayflower. Columbus, the Mayflower's captain, had said that this new recruit was vital, but he had proven hard to get. Once the Mayflower's crew had contacted him the agents had his signal immediately traced, then bugged. Now they not only had to debug him, but to convince him of the Matrix _and_ his dangerous situation. Only two other coppertops had been traced before; one of them had been Zandra. Luckily for her though, she got out before she was caught.

So Cover, Alias and Shade had been called in to help. They were supposed to watch out for agents while the Mayflower's crew debugged the poor kid and told him what was happening to him. Cover guessed that it would be a rough day. The three all guarded different entrances to a run-down house in the suburbs of Manhattan, all watching vigilantly for any sign of a problem. They had rarely dealt with agents before - it seemed like they mostly ignored the rebels when they were in the matrix - and therefore no one sure what to do if they encountered one. Would they try to capture them, or just kill them? None of them knew. All they knew was that for now, if they saw an agent, they were to alert the Mayflower and run in the opposite direction.

Meanwhile Zandra and Trim were left on Purgatory to watch the ship. Trim was there to be the techie, and Zandra was there only because she wasn't ready to go back into the Matrix yet. Unfortunately, there was not much for them to do while the three were on the mission. Yet, Kesia was also there to keep them company - she was left out by default because she was their operator. 

Zandra was a bit disappointed that she didn't get to go out with Cover and the rest of them. If she had lived in the Matrix for twenty-two years, why couldn't she go back now? It didn't sound like the mission would be very hard - it sounded to her like they would basically be waiting for someone to be jacked out of the Matrix. She understood that Trim stayed behind because he had to do work in their absence, but she didn't see why _she _had to as well. For most of the day, she wandered around the ship glumly, hoping that maybe _one _day she would be a contributor like the rest.

It had been a week since her fight with Shade, and he had barely spoken with her since that day. Generally they had avoided each other. Every time she had seen his figure, his straight brown hair showing from behind a corner, his hazel eyes glancing nonchalantly at her, she froze. What had happened that made him so mad? The rest of them had seemed happy enough - Cover had congratulated her on her combat skills, and even Alias had commented on how well she did. It was almost enough for her to forget about Shade's negativity. _Almost._

The last few days had been pretty quiet. Zandra had been regularly jacking in to various practicing programs, and was beginning to master the many new techniques that she had learned in the training upload. It seemed like she was closer to being equal with the rest of the crew, just 'one of the guys', like she had hoped. yet the day before, Cover had announced that he, Alias, and Shade would be going into the Matrix to get a recruit. They were mysterious about it, and left early the next morning. Zandra and Trim were left twiddling their thumbs in the silence.

Trim was in the cockpit, staring out the large window into the piped tunnels around them. He almost liked being left behind, because it left him the ranking officer on the ship. Without them there, he had more power. He could drive the ship if he had to, he could order Kesia to take them out, and run the EMP. So he sat in the captain's chair of the cockpit, quietly admiring all the controls and buttons around him.

Zandra soon found her way to the cockpit and decided to join him. Maybe she would enjoy his company.

"Busy, huh,"

He was a little surprised at her voice, but concealed his sudden fear. 

"Oh yeah," he joked, "I'm sure glad I'm not stuck with the rest of them." 

He then turned more cynical. 

"I'm sure they're bored out of their minds." 

Zandra could sense his bitterness. Upon her entrance, Trim remembered that there was nothing that he could _really_ do. He couldn't run the EMP without killing everyone jacked in, he couldn't drive the ship without a copilot (and Zandra knew nothing of steering), and Kesia probably wouldn't listen to him anyway. He might as well be wandering around, like Zandra. Like he didn't know anything. 

"They probably thought you were the best person to keep onboard."

Trim was silent, then responded quietly, "Shade would have been better stuck here than me. I've been here longer than he has."

It was Zandra's turn to be quiet. She was in a bit of an awkward situation, but figured that if he felt comfortable enough to confide in her, then she was one step closer to being a true part of the crew. Even his stature displayed anger – hunched over in the seat, his shaved head resting on his hand. 

"No, Cover put him there because he won't stay around me," she replied. Perhaps she had confided too much… "Plus, you would know more about the ship than him."

Trim sighed, then slowly nodded his head. Zandra was relieved.

"That's true," he said, staring at the scenery outside, "He's never been really trained for the ship maintenance."

Zandra was confused, "But isn't that done with an upload?" She waited a moment for his response, but soon recalled that she could not remember _anything_ having to do with the ship mechanics.

"No, if that were done, a program could steal it and take our information. You have to learn this stuff in the _real_ world." Trim breathed deeply and propped his feet up on the control panel, subtly making sure he didn't accidentally start the ship.

_It made enough sense,_ she figured. A safety measure installed so that the integrity of their information would be kept safe. 

"What do you have to learn?"

"Controls, maintenance," he replied, turning to face her, "most of it depends on past coding experience." Zandra stared, nonplussed. 

"Hacking stuff," he explained.

"You were a hacker?"

"Yeah," he replied, with a mysterious look.

"Is that how they got you out?"

Trim nodded. "I was in prison when they finally found me,"

Prison? That sounded a little extreme. Quiet, shy Trim had been in prison? 

"_Prison_?"

"Okay, juvenile hall. I was fourteen."

"Why were you there?"

"Why else?" 

Both paused.

"How could _hacking_ get you into prison?"

Trim figured that Zandra had never been in any trouble before. He also guessed that she had never gotten into hacking, but that seemed a bit hard to believe...

"I hacked into the CIA database and found information on Cover and a bunch of older people."

"They _had _that?"

"I had to dig deep."

"And they tracked you?"

"I left my handle somewhere in the coding, and the CIA found out. They threw me in prison." He paused a moment, then added, "But it could have also been the matrix responding to what I had found."

"Geez," Zandra breathed. Trim nodded again, looking rather solemn.

"I took the first chance out I got."

"I bet,"

"Yeah,"

Both were silent for a little while, and it soon became apparent to Zandra that he would not reciprocate - ask how _she _got out. She self-consciously ran a hand through her hair, but only got air again. She quietly got back up and retraced her steps to the main room. Kesia was still sitting at the computer screens, still intently watching the incessantly falling code. Zandra was jealous of her long wavy hair, she looked so exotic, so _normal_. _Kesia probably never had to worry about looking like a man, now did she?_ She saw Zandra come up and instantly smiled. _How can she be so nice?_

"Having fun?" she asked Kesia, glancing at the screens. Kesia laughed.

"Of course I am. They're still just standing around. Columbus is talking to the kid now,"

"Right," she replied. Zandra was beginning to notice patterns in the falling code - she had learned _some _in the training program, but not enough to decipher anything yet. 

"So have you heard anything about this kid?" Zandra asked curiously. Maybe this kid wasn't a hacker, either. 

"Not much," she replied, "everything I know is just from the code I see."

"What do you know so far?"

"Well, he's about twenty three, making him about your age."

_That would be nice_, Zandra thought to herself, maybe it would be someone she could truly relate to. Maybe she would even get to meet this person - it seemed like the Mayflower's crew knew Cover pretty well.

"He was an underground hacker I think, that would make the most sense. But I would guess he's just a college kid who got a little too deep."

"Yeah." It strangely reminded Zandra of her own story. She had been just a college girl herself - classes during the day and sorority parties at night.... And it was only until she started that damn project that stuff started to go wrong... But he was a hacker. 

"So what's this guy's name?" 

Kesia was silent, trying to remember what she had been told.

"Um, I don't remember exactly, maybe Tevy or something. _Oh_," she suddenly said, punching a button, "operator?"

"Yes Kesia," Cover said stonily, still standing next to the door that he was supposed to be guarding, "We're finished, and we've been traced - do we have an exit?"

Kesia instantly went into action, pushing and typing on the machinery surrounding her. "There's one right in the building across the street on the fifth floor."

"Specifics?" he asked, sounding a little bit apprehensive.

"Third door on the right, I'll be waiting." 

Cover hung up after that, and that was all the information Zandra got. Minutes later, all three came back to life, staggering out of their chairs with heaving breaths.


	6. Time To Rest

Protector of Men Ch 6

Zandra immediately went over to the reclined chairs to help Kesia unstrap everyone. Luckily for her, Shade was assisted by Kesia. Zandra went to help Cover, who then undid the bonds that held in Alias. 

"What happened back there?" Zandra asked her captain. He shook his head, still breathing rapidly, but answered fairly quickly.

"Right when the Mayflower was about to get this kid out, an agent traced our location and came." He gestured towards Alias, who blushed - "Alias here saw him and alerted the rest of us."

Shade then piped in, almost shocking Zandra because he was speaking (however indirectly,) to her. 

"We all just hauled until we got across the street."

"He was really close; we just barely made it." 

That was Alias.

Cover sighed loudly. "I think," he started, "We will have to change how we think of agents."

Both Alias and Shade nodded vigorously. Zandra was glad now that she hadn't gone in with them - what would she have done if _she_ met the agent first? She hadn't been taught what to do when an agent approached. As Cover had said, the agents, strangely enough, didn't do much to the unplugged. Until now.

Cover gestured towards Shade and Alias, who was now twirling her long hair. 

"It might be a good idea to get some rest for now," he said, "It's been a tough day." 

Both of them nodded again and left for their bunks. Zandra decided to leave them alone, and besides - she wasn't sure if Shade would speak to her again. _Leave it for now, _she thought to herself.

Cover remained standing where he was, and it took Zandra a moment to realize that he was waiting to address her. She felt her ears begin to burn.

"Zandra, I think we need to do some more training," he started. She looked up pleadingly, _no more!_

"I know it has been a lot," he continued, reading her expression, "But if the agents are going to start fighting, you need to be prepared." She nodded slowly in agreement. 

"It will be hard." 

Zandra nodded again. 

It was now Cover who nodded, glad that Zandra would accept more training. She had done more than any other crewmember, but in his mind, none of the rest had as much potential as she. _After all, _he thought to himself, _she _did_realize the matrix on her own._ Potentially, Zandra was the most powerful person on the ship. All she had to do was unlock her frustration, her anger - everything that was holding her back. 

This training would be crucial to her if she went back into the matrix. Cover remembered how Zandra had been only the second person to be tracked by an agent - and if she went back in now, there was no doubt in his mind that they would instantly track her down. _Perhaps because she was so influential, _he figured. Either way, she _had _to learn what it would be like to confront an agent.

He led Zandra to the mess hall. He motioned for her to sit, and after she did, he joined her. They were sitting opposite each other, Cover with his hands clasped together, as if he were about to explain something. Hers gripped the bottom of her seat, anticipating his next move.

"Zandra, this is the most important training you will ever do."

"Agent training,"

"Yes. You will need to focus as much as you can or else you won't be able to assist on missions."

"Why would that be?" Zandra suddenly realized how rude that must have sounded…

Cover sighed again. 

"Agents never took an interest in us until you came along," he explained, "And I would guess that they would target you first if you went back in."

Zandra was quiet.

"You _have _to be prepared," He said, a little loud. Zandra stared in stony agreement.

"When would you be ready to start?" he asked, getting back up from the table.

"As soon as possible," she replied. 

"Good, tomorrow then?"

"Great."

Zandra then followed Cover out of the room, where they parted ways for a while. 

She decided to go to bed then - it was already evening, and she had nothing better to do. In addition, she would be starting a new training program the next day that she would have to 'really focus on'. As she walked by a corridor, she saw Shade and Alias talking. Both of the brunettes, of course. They were the two crewmembers that Zandra had wanted to get to know most of all – they were confident, knew their way around… but the connection was never made. They stopped abruptly when she walked by, and Zandra continued on. There was nothing to say to them right now. She went to her bunk and sat, staring at the wall in silence.

Shade and Alias looked at each other once Zandra had left the room. 

"It's too bad she couldn't come," said Shade.

"Yeah but she _had_ to stay behind."

"I know, it just seemed like she would have liked to see..."

"You know what that could have done to her?"

"Yeah, yeah," Shade said, exasperated. "I guess she's dealt with a lot lately."

"Seriously. We'll give it time."

"Did you hear Cover though?" Shade asked, eyes wide, "I hear she's doing agent training tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Alias was a little bit surprised, "That's pretty early."

"Tell me about it, but she'll need it."

"Especially now that they're active..."

"_That's _a development I was hoping to avoid."

"Really."

They continued to talk quietly in the hallway. In her room, Zandra was now lying in her bed, trying to get to sleep. She knew that she would have a rigorous training the next day, but could not sleep for the screaming thoughts in her head.

_Why me?_ She wondered, _why take an interest in me?_ Sure she had found existence of the matrix just by astronomy, by _looking at the sky_, but why would they attack her if she went back in? _And why would Cover even want me back in if I am a danger to the others?_ It didn't matter now, she had to sleep. _Do they know that I'm with Cover?_ Could agents find out who belonged to what ship? She hoped not. It was time to rest now, time to forget all of her musings. It was time to sleep. 


	7. Beginnings

Protector of Men Ch 7

There was a loud rapping on the door. _What was that?_ Zandra awoke in a confusion, maybe this was a dream…

"Zandra," Trim called from behind the thick iron door, "It's time to start training."

_Training. _She got up slowly, and opened the door to see Trim smiling cheerfully. _How could he be so cheerful at this hour?_

"Can I eat?" The words came out a little slowly.

"Ah, I wouldn't suggest it," he replied factually, "we don't want a mess in the chair if you get sick."

"Oh." _Great, _thought Zandra, _I can already tell how this is going to go..._

"Um," he continued, "We're all set up." 

Zandra followed him into the control room, where Cover and Kesia were waiting. Kesia motioned for her to sit, and began to strap her into the chair. Zandra was a little apprehensive, but told herself to be prepared.

"I know that it's very early," Cover stated, "But it is necessary. It will start out fairly easy."

"Easy?" she asked hopefully.

"You will not feel accurately. This program can only inflict a certain amount of pain on you." He paused, then added, "It is for your safety. These agents can kill in one hit."

Zandra tried to look nonplussed, but was silently a little shocked. She had only heard a little about the agents, snippets from the crew.

"Do you think you are ready?" Cover asked, walking over to the wall of computers.

_You are, you are ready! _

"Yes," she replied. Kesia inserted the needle, and suddenly she was in town again. 

It looked like another take on the jump program - Zandra noticed the similar buildings, similar sidewalks and streets. People milled about aimlessly, some going into buildings, some driving cars, some hailing cabs, it was just like home. _No, _she reminded herself again, _not like home._ Home was a metal ship inside the earth. Home was cold. Home was bare.

She looked around expectantly. Where was the agent? All she could see was people going about their 'business', doing nothing in particular. She began to walk towards a nearby alley, checking behind her every few seconds.

There he was - the agent suddenly burst out of a crowd of people. He looked just like she had imagined, tall, dark haired, with a crisp suit. He didn't look like a program, he looked like a pissed-off CEO. He wore a look of hatred as he stomped over to where she stood. Time was already running short.

It was time to move, time to fight or run. Now that the moment had arrived, Zandra wasn't sure of what to do. She stood motionless, racking her brain trying to remember. _What did they tell me, what do I do,_ she questioned, while looking almost frantically around her. There was nowhere to run, barely even a way to run out of where she was. _Nice move, _she thought to herself - now that she had walked into the alley, she had basically just trapped herself. The agent stomped closer.

_I've got to get away from here,_ she told herself. She would have to move quickly. Sure enough, soon after she started her retreat, the agent began the chase. _Damn, he's fast._ She sprinted to the right, and he followed easily. _Run faster, _she thought to herself, _faster!_ She swerved to the right, hoping that he would be caught by surprise and sprinted harder.

Something caught her foot, and Zandra was instantly sprawled on the ground. Her bony body rippled with pain. Had he gotten her already?

She felt something brush against her leg and her heart froze. How would she get away now? She knew it was him – she could see his tall shadow on the ground in front of her. He grabbed her long blonde hair and pulled her on her feet. _I thought this wasn't going to hurt, _she thought painfully as she got up. But before she could even think about fleeing, he attacked. 

He immediately hit Zandra, one punch knocking her clear across the street and into the brick of a building. She grimaced in pain, bricks crumpling, falling behind and on top of her. She was sure that her back had broken, but it hadn't - at least not yet. The agent began to cross the street. _I've got to get up, _she told herself as she groaned to her feet. He was getting closer. 

She was up; if she was going to get away, she had to do it now. Without another glance at the approaching agent, she broke into a sprint in the opposite direction knowing full well he would follow her. The question was, what _exacty _would he do? She began to cross a street, with the agent close behind. Maybe he wouldn't follow her if traffic- 

A car horn blared. Zandra hadn't seen it coming, but it threatened to hit her if she didn't get out of the way. _Move!_ She immediately went into action and vaulted herself into a leap across the danger. The car passed behind, its tires screeching loudly. She tumbled to the ground again but resumed her sprint almost instantly. _Maybe he got hit, _she thought hopefully, glancing backwards while resuming her flight. He hadn't. But what she did notice made her breath stop short. It was only a convertible, but there was blood on the windshield. No one moved inside. And the agent was still coming after her. Surely he couldn't _kill _in the program,_ right? _She pushed herself to run faster - no matter what, she was _not _going to be caught. Images of blood ran through her mind, seeped through every pore and only incited her to move faster.

But she couldn't just keep running from him. What would she do? It seemed impossible for her to kill him - he was just too fast, too good. This was only a program though – and Zandra's logic wouldn't let her lose. Maybe she could fight it, if she just anticipated enough. Technically, they were on even ground in the programming world. 

Back in Purgatory, Cover watched Zandra's headway intently. She was progressing very well - meaning that she was still moving. Yet, even defeating the program would never be enough. Agents in the real matrix would have killed her in seconds. He was documenting her every move, seeing her resolve harden when she saw the 'killed' people. But why had she just stopped running? His eyes narrowed as the situation changed.

Zandra watched in horror as the elderly man only ten feet in front of her morphed into an agent. 

__


	8. Retry

Protector of Men Ch 8

It was a much different situation now. Zandra stood motionless for a moment, desperately searching for inspiration on what to do. The second agent in front of her was just straightening his tie, now smoothing out his jacket. It was her chance for a head start, and she ran straight across the busy street into a back alleyway. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, and started to fall in her eyes. _This is not the time!_ The first agent was still trailing her, now closer because of her momentary pause. She had to continue, had to find a way to beat them. For now, all she could do was run. 

Kesia was worried about Zandra back in Purgatory, unsure of the inevitable outcome. What was she going to do? Her palms began to sweat as she continued to watch her in the program. Zandra seemed like she knew what she was doing, but it just seemed like too much too quickly. After all, the agents weren't much of a presence in the Matrix, anyway. And it looked really hard. But she continued to watch the program in silence, wordlessly hoping that she would triumph. 

Cover also continued to watch. It was only he and Kesia; Cover had specifically asked everyone else to stay out of the control room for the day. It was probably going to be frustrating enough for her when she finally succumbed - he didn't want her to be further bothered by the presence of the others again. She needed to focus, to concentrate.

Zandra was still running, now with two agents in close pursuit. She was holding her own though, successfully keeping them at the same distance. She was doing well, almost knowing when to turn in the darkened alleyways. Still, she couldn't run forever. 

There were doors to her right and left, and she figured that she should go through one of them at some point. Maybe she could get to the roof of a building, _or something_ - maybe she could attack one of them...

With an astonishing burst of speed, she ran to one of the doors and attempted to open it.It was locked. She still had a moment, and sprinted to the next door. It was locked, too. The agents were still running; they were getting closer. She only had a second left before they would catch up - not enough time to check another door. Instead she decided to kick it open and in doing so, revealed nothing but a white void. 

_What?_

One of the agents pulled out a gun and began to shoot. Zandra was still confused. 

_What?_

She was hit in the arm. In the meantime the other agent caught up to her and kicked her in the side of her chest. Zandra was sent flying into a wooden fence, all of twenty feet away. She was in a daze. _Get up,_ a part of her screamed. She again pulled herself to her feet before the agents could reach her. Her shoulder burned with pain, but she could still move. She was still alive. She started to run again to the right, heading out of the alley and towards the sunlit opening. The agents were behind her, and now both of them were firing. 

She couldn't hear the shots fired though she knew they were. She was too focused. _Get out of range. _Her shoulder was searing with pain. _It's not real, _she told herself, but was it? She knew that Cover would probably be checking her vitals that moment back in Purgatory. It wasn't real until she failed. 

There were more shots behind her, and Zandra suddenly felt pain shoot up her leg. She tripped and fell to the ground, scrambling to get back up. 

"I won't fail," She yelled as the agents slowly approached. They weren't firing anymore. Instantly, everything turned white.

She was back in Purgatory, Cover standing over her.

"Good job," He said. Kesia looked back at her, smiling. She looked a little nervous.

"Am I okay?" Zandra asked, still strapped in. There was no pain. She had been shot twice, and kicked and punched by agents – and somehow, not feeling pain didn't make sense.

"Remember what I told you?" he asked, "They can only hurt you so much. We designed it so you would have no lasting injuries."

"Oh."

They paused. Zandra was waiting for Cover to unstrap her, but he made no movement to. She looked at him questioningly.

"I think you should try another program," he started, "You did fairly well in that last one."

"I was shot twice," 

"Only because of the limitations on the program," he replied, "It was your resourcefulness that stopped you."

Zandra sighed. 

"Okay."

Cover nodded once and moved behind her chair. In moments, she was back in a program. This time though, it was much different.

She was in a gray room. It looked like an office maybe, almost empty with only a desk and filing cabinets. On the desk there was a cellphone which soon began to ring. Zandra picked it up.

"Yes?"

"This is a different program," Kesia said, "You will have only one agent at a time. Once you go through the gray door in front of you, they will come."

"From where?"

"Any red door you see. All the rooms are different. You can find almost anything,"

"Right,"

Kesia paused for a moment.

"I guess you're ready then,"

"Okay, see you."

"Good luck,"

"Bye."

Zandra hung up the phone. _Anything can be found in the rooms? _She looked around in the small enclosure. Grey door in front of her, and red behind. That wouldn't leave much time to get away; she would have to be fast. She tried to imagine what would be behind the door in front of her. A hallway, perhaps? Kesia had mentioned many doors, so surely there would have to be a hallway... That sounded right. _Anticipate,_ she reminded herself, her hand on the doorknob._ Anticipate._

She shoved herself through the door and as she did, she heard the door behind her open. Zandra had been partly right - there _were_ many doors, but the room she was in was more of a reception hall. In front of her sat a modern red sofa, with potted plants on each side. Further ahead was a reception desk. To its left was a huge staircase, which spiraled around the desk and up into the air. There was an elevator further off, but to her immediate left were bathrooms. It was very bright, and very empty. 

She took it all in an instant, knowing that the agent would be immediately behind her. He probably had a gun, too. She ran forward, and as she did, she heard the door behind her open. _That was quick, _she thought off-handedly, then scolded herself. She would have to try and stop him now, because she wasn't sure yet where to go. Zandra looked around quickly to try and find a possible weapon, but all she could set her eyes on were the plants next to her. _Might as well..._

It had only been an instant since the agent had opened the door. She still had time. Zandra grabbed the plant by its leaves, planning to swing it straight at the approaching agent. It was heavier than she thought. _It's not heavy!_ She lifted the whole pot up and swung it around her head, shifting her weight unintentionally. It was still heavy, and she let go of it earlier than she had planned. Zandra watched in trepidation as it slowly flew towards the agent. _Don't waste time, _she told herself. Zandra still watched the impending collision as she began to back away. _Go!_

It hit him in the legs, and sent the agent to the ground, legs still partially covered by the broken ceramic. He wasn't dead, but he had been stopped for now. The closest door was the ladies' bathroom, and she ran through it. She didn't look back at the agent, but he was already getting back up for the chase. 

She paused before resuming her escape, confused by her un-matched surroundings. Zandra now found herself in an off-white greasy-walled hallway with doors at every five feet. This didn't look like a bathroom, but there was no time to worry. She ran to the right, then to the left, the hallway seemed to go on forever, with infinite choices... _What door to go in?_ She thought she heard a door open behind her, but she wasn't sure. _Anticipate._ She came to a turn in the hallway - there was a red door on her right, and a table next to it. Thinking ahead, she propped the table against the red door, hoping that if she was actually able to terminate one agent, the other would be a little delayed. 

Certainly the agent would by now be close, and Zandra had to remind herself to keep moving. The hallway would be too small to fight hand-to-hand. She took the door to the left of her, hoping that maybe it would lead her to a place with weapons.

It didn't. Now she was in a warmly lit home, on the second floor in a hallway overlooking a family room. She looked around - there was a door to her left, at the end of the hallway. _Hurry, _she told herself as she sprinted along. She kicked the door open fiercely and let it slam shut as she ran into the next room. 

"Finally," she said aloud as she paused in the small room. It was a tiny room with white washed concrete walls, and it was filled with ammunition. She scanned the racks and quickly chose a 12-guage shotgun and turned back around to face the door from which she came. It was not long until the agent burst through it, knocking several pieces of the door flying.

Zandra caught him by surprise, shooting him three times straight before he even registered that he was being attacked. He fell in a heap on the linoleum floor, and flashed white before turning into a young woman. Zandra grabbed two additional MP5's from a shelf and ran out of the other door.

She was in a school gymnasium, and immediately noticed that there was a red door only feet away from her. That meant she only had moments before one would come out.

Zandra climbed up the retracted bleachers and leapt over to the suspended basketball hoop. She was now straddling the orange circle, again watching the red door. But the agent didn't come through the red door. He came through the grey one. 

Zandra let go a volley of fire from her arsenal, and she again was able to catch the agent by surprise. He fell to the floor, and turned into a teenage boy. The red door opened. 

For some reason, Zandra hesitated before firing again - but that was all the time that the agent needed. When she did start to fire, he effortlessly dodged her every bullet, disappearing in a blur of movement. Zandra was horrified - if he knew what was coming, he could dodge anything. She still continued to fire, hoping that maybe one shot would get through...

She was out of ammunition. Time seemed to slow down as she threw her guns to the side, preparing to jump off of the hoop and hopefully out of danger. The agent pulled out his gun as she coiled for the jump. He started to fire as she leapt to the bleachers, but luckily he missed her - though it was only by inches. 

Blindly she sprinted to the other end of the gymnasium. He was still firing, and it was almost like she could hear the bullets as they came. She knew to veer to the left, because he was shooting at her right._ They always go to the right_, she thought. Zandra yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind her.

It was almost like a submarine deck, the room was so full with metal. To her glad surprise, she found that the door behind her was boltable. She locked it quickly, thinking that the agent would have a tough time getting through it. But where to go? It looked like there were no more doors.

A phone rang.


	9. Looking Forward to Something

Protector of Men Ch 9

"Are you excited?"

"Yeah, I really am,"

"It's absolutely awe inspiring to see it,"

"... For the first time." They paused, almost for the effect.

"I can't wait." 

Alias and Trim left the mess room, leaving Zandra to eat alone. It was early morning, and they had all just been told by Cover that they would be leaving broadcast depth to return to Zion for recharging. It would be Zandra's first time to see the last city. She was excited. 

Ever since the day she had gone through the agent training programs she had been fairly bored. They hadn't needed to do anything inside the Matrix, so they contacted Zion. _It's pretty empty here, _they replied, and invited Purgatory back in for recharging. Since then Zandra just tried her best to help everyone out in preparing the ship. She couldn't do much. 

It had been only two days since Purgatory had started the trip back to Zion, and it would take a few more. She barely saw Cover since he was steering the ship. Only he and Trim knew the way back to Zion - a precautionary measure in case someone or everyone was compromised. It was pretty quiet in Purgatory, and most of the day Zandra was left to wander around the ship in search of someone to chat with. For the time being she had given up, and was amusing herself quietly in the mess room.

Shade sauntered in and sat across from her. 

"So, excited yet?"

"Actually initiating conversation?" she joked. Shade looked offended, but didn't leave. 

"I had my reasons." Zandra detected a hint of slyness in his voice, but he still sounded miffed. She continued anyway, grateful that he was actually talking to her now. _Don't ruin it._

"Yeah, there might actually be something to _do_ there." She smiled jokingly.

"Isn't it nice though to relax?"

"I'd rather be helping or _something,_" she replied. "Hell, I'd do the training again."

Shade shook his head slowly and laughed. "I don't think you need any more of _that_,"

Zandra looked at him curiously.

"That agent training was quite a feat,"

"I got my ass kicked the first time,"

"Do you know how many times you'll get your _'ass kicked'_ regularly at this?"

"How many." She was a bit sarcastic. _Not this again._

"Lemme just say that Cover was... _Happy_... With your progress." He pulled back a piece of hair that had landed in his face.

"He said I was ready, if that's what you mean,"

"More like hoping we'd get called in for another job." He leaned back on the bench, obviously finished with his side of the conversation. Shade wanted to change the subject, and Zandra could sense it.

"Anyways," he sighed, leaning forward again, "ready to meet the council?"

"What?"_ What council? _

"The council of Zion," he said, "I think there are twenty or something, but they like to meet every new person."

Zandra was silent. They had a council of Zion? Twenty seemed like a pretty big number. 

"It's nothing," He added, "They ask you some questions and then advise you on what to work on, no big deal."

"Right," Zandra replied. She believed him, but only a little. Shade shot her a look which told her he had caught her slight tone. Zandra smiled back at him. 

"How long will we be in Zion?"

"A week at the most,"

"Oh." That seemed like quite a short time to stay in the city that was supposedly so 'awe-inspiring'. Speaking of which...

"Where do we stay?"

Shade looked suddenly very uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat before answering.

"Well we're supposed to stay with our families," he replied. _So that was why he was uncomfortable_ - neither of them had families.

"I have a place to myself though," he continued, "Since I've been there before I registered and all that."

So that would be a problem. Where would Zandra stay? She didn't get a chance to answer though, because Shade kept on talking. 

"So, ah, if you need a place to stay..." he shifted again in his seat, "I guess you can stay with me,"

Zandra was still trying to take in the whole conversation, and nodded blankly. Shade looked a little fearful. 

"Yeah," she finally answered, "thanks."

Shade was the one nodding now, looking more comfortable as he briefly told her where his room was. Zandra imagined that Zion was a mecca and it sounded absolutely huge. It would definitely be unlike any city she had ever been to. 

"Well, I have to work," he said, getting up. He smiled before leaving the room.

Zandra was alone again, with her bowl of uneaten slop in front of her though she really wasn't that hungry anymore. She got up and put her bowl away. _What to do?_ Maybe she would visit Kesia. Zandra wandered over to the control room, where she found Kesia talking to what appeared to be no one. Upon looking closer, she found that Kesia was on the phone talking to what looked like another ship's captain. 

"How is Tevy?" Kesia asked. Zandra got a little closer and could see the captain, an older woman with short black hair. _Must be captain of the Mayflower,_ Zandra remembered. _Her name was Colombus_. Zandra was reluctant to get any closer, but Kesia smiled at her and motioned for her to come. 

"He is doing okay," the woman replied, "It was rough getting him out but I think he's making the change."

The woman noticed Zandra and smiled, too.

"Zandra," she said warmly, "I've heard about you."

_Heard about me?_

"I'm Colombus, the captain of the Mayflower."

"Hi," Zandra replied in a small voice. She mentally kicked herself - how could she be so rude to a captain? Zandra immediately tried to rectify her mistake.

"It's nice to meet you, captain."

"Likewise. You had quite an impression on our Tevy," she continued.

"Impression?" 

"Oh yes," she continued, "it was your little project that convinced him the Matrix was real." She paused for a moment.

_My project?_ She must have meant her physics project – though it would have gotten much larger than she anticipated.

"So Kesia," Colombus started again. Zandra guessed that her place in the conversation had ended, "I think we will be 'in town' at around the same time..."

She left with a small wave to Kesia. Kesia waved back enthusiastically, but at an angle that Colombus would not see. It was going to be a long, uneventful trip. Only a day or so to go.


	10. People

Protector of Men Ch 10

Purgatory was abuzz. Each crewmember was running around to do various preparatory things for the upcoming docking. Meaning everyone but Zandra. This time she had at least been given a job, however menial and brief it was. She had gathered Purgatory's gear dutifully, and was quickly in search of something to do again. Fortunately for everyone they were on the final approach. It would not be long until she would have more human contact than ever before, probably the most since she had been unplugged.

Cover came on the PA system, the machine crackling to life in every nook of the ship's existence - "They're opening the doors," he announced. Zandra ran to the deck - she had heard about this part.

What was usually dark and mechanical pipeways was now a brighter, more open area. Ahead of Purgatory was a crack of light running from thousands of meters below them to all the way above them, growing wider every second. The light was almost blinding because Zandra was now so used to the dark surroundings of the tunnels. She saw Kesia sitting at one of the control seats, obviously listening to something through her headset.

"Thank you," she said into her microphone, "We're glad to be home."

The doors were open. Zandra recalled that the others had said that this view would be awe-inspiring, but it was much more. It was life-changing. She stared in wonder as Purgatory slowly advanced into the lit area filled with ships and other machinery. It _was_ a mecca but there was definitely an old-world feeling about it. A smaller machine guided them ahead, leading them to a docking bay labeled "Five-C". Above them, Zandra noticed the levels upon levels of rooms, probably where people stayed. It looked like a vertical city to her - she couldn't see anything on the ground beyond the docking bay. It truly was amazing, and Zandra felt secure knowing that there were others, other _people_ out there that were alive, that were unplugged, that knew the truth...

She got her things excitedly as the ship halted on the ground. _The ground!_ Together the crew stepped onto the concrete floor of the city as they prepared to take a break. There were four people waiting for them, each wearing different colored robes. 

"Welcome home, Cover," one said with a nod. 

"Thank you Eli," he replied, "It is good to have my feet on the ground."

"Indeed," he replied. Another robed man cut in, scanning the crew.

"We would especially like to welcome Zandra..." he said, still searching the crew. Zandra stepped forward and raised her hand a little.

"That's me," she said quietly, "thanks_,_" She was silent for a moment, but couldn't contain her excitement for a second longer. "This is _amazing,_" she quietly exclaimed.

"Thirty years of work," another said. The first robed man continued, talking only to Zandra, as it seemed.

"The council wishes to meet with you,"

"Now?" Trim asked. Zandra could see his ears turning red, and he took a small step backwards before mumbling what sounded a little like 'sorry'.

"If that is possible," the man replied, in a half-question. Zandra looked at Cover, who nodded back at her. 

"Yes...?'"

"Good. Follow me,"

And Zandra followed him, leaving the rest of Purgatory to their own devices. Cover waited to leave until he was sure that Zandra had gotten to the council's meeting room. _They will be quite impressed,_ he assured himself, and started the long walk to his home.

"Welcome, Zandra," said one councilwoman, an elderly lady with long gray hair.

"Thank you,"

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here now," another said. 

Zandra just stared blankly - she wasn't sure how to reply to a question like that...

"We councilpeople like to meet every person that is taken out of the Matrix. Now, we know that is a big number,"

" - But we like to know who is fighting for us."

"We are sorry to call you in so early,"

" - We're sure that you are eager to see Zion -"

"But we have heard good things about you."

Zandra stared at the ground, avoiding their eyes out of both respect and confusion. 

"Tell me," one said, "What do you think it was that got you recognized?"

Zandra was a little overwhelmed by the council. There were so many people, so much talking,_ Shade was about right_...

"Ah," she replied, racking her brain, _what's the right answer?_

"I think it was because of a physics project I did on the palpable evidence of the Matrix,"

"That's the story we heard." It was a younger man this time, his slate hair falling into his face. Everyone was silent for a moment. Some of the councilors were nodding, and others were looking at each other with raised eyebrows. Zandra had not a clue what they were nodding about, but thought it best not to ask at the moment. 

"How has training gone?"

"Well, I guess," Zandra replied honestly. The council still stared at her.

"Well I did a spar with another crew member first -"

"How did that go?"

Zandra was put off a little. "It was kind of a draw." She trailed off. That sparring had not been a good experience.

"And after that?"

"I just did some agent training."

"_Really_?" One asked, drawing glances from the other councilors. The woman settled down in her chair a bit, as if embarrassed. Another cut in, in the first's place.

"What kind of agent training?"

Zandra thought hard, how would she word this? 

"I first was in an urban setting, with multiple agents, and I got pinned after the programming glitched."

"_First?_ You did something after?"

"Yes," Zandra replied, "I went into a multiple setting upload. There I fought three."

"How was it?" asked the one lady, getting more glances. She ignored the glances, and continued gazing at Zandra.

"I terminated two and evaded a third before getting out," she replied frankly. Zandra was surprised at the reaction she got - the council people broke into muffled tones and whispers.

"Are you aware of the significance of an accomplishment of that magnitude?"

"No..."

"No one terminates an agent in their first training. Some _never_ do."

"Never?" Zandra couldn't hide her confusion. Cover hadn't even mentioned anything like _this, _he had just said that the agents were extremely hard to terminate... _Why would he leave out such an important piece of information? Was she really supposed to just run from them?_

"Obviously Cover has not informed you fully on this."

"Have you been informed on the current status of agent presence in the Matrix?"

"I have heard that they weren't active until now."

"Exactly."

"The only person traced by an agent before you was a man named Emory. I think you would be obliged to meet up with him."

A man walked up to Zandra from the corner of the room, and he too had on the robes that she had seen on the people that had first greeted Purgatory to Zion. 

"This man will lead you to his quarters."

"Even Cover does not know your potential," the embarrassed lady said, "you will have to work hard, but you can help save our race."

With that, Zandra was led out of the room. 


	11. Listening

Protector of Men Ch 11

Zandra had been quietly following the robed man in front of her. He said nothing, and they had walked in silence for over ten minutes. She was a little disappointed that she had seen none of the crew members on the way to this man's room – it all seemed a little overwhelming and she was hoping to see a friendly face. Staying hopeful, she kept a lookout as they walked down a hallway of rooms. Still, there was no crewmember, no friendly face to be seen. 

The man in front of her stopped.

"We are here,"

He knocked on the door three times. Inside, Emory was sitting in a chair near the door, reading. Upon hearing the three knocks, he leaped out of his chair and hastily put away the book. He knew what three knocks meant.

The door opened wide. Zandra was almost surprised at Emory's appearance – short crew hair with large dark eyes that looked her over almost maniacally. Emory too was surprised at Zandra's appearance – thin, blonde, piercing green eyes – not anything like he would have imagined. She looked a little nervous, maybe a little tired. 

"This is Zandra," the robed man said. Emory gestured for them both to come in, but the robed man refused. Emory shrugged and closed the door behind Zandra. The room was dark.

"Zandra," Emory repeated, looking her over again. Zandra wasn't sure if she liked him.

"How did you get that name?"

"My real name was Alexandra," she said slowly. _Was…_That felt like a weird thing to say.

"Alexandra," he repeated again, "Protector of men, right?"

"Right," she replied. This man was a little strange…

"So you didn't take a hacker alias?"

"I was never a hacker,"

"I see." Emory went and sat in his chair again. He motioned for her to sit in a chair across from him, and she slowly sat down. 

"Do you know why you are here?"

"Councilpeople told me you had information,"

"I have been waiting for you."

Zandra was silent. Emory guessed that she did not understand.

"I told the council to alert me when someone qualified came along,"

"Oh,"

"You just came earlier than I thought,"

"Earlier?"

"There are things you would never believe,"

Zandra almost smiled. _If I can take what's happened so far,_ she mused silently.

"Unless you saw them," he continued.

"In the matrix?"

Emory smiled. "Exactly." Suddenly, his smile vanished.

"How did you get out again?"

"A physics project…" Zandra started. _Not this again, am I not supposed to be here?_ Emory was silent, so she continued.

"I did a project on the universal hologram theory –"

"- proof of the matrix?" Emory was now enthusiastic, almost coming out of his chair.

"To a point," Zandra replied, "It was more like thinking of the world around you as bits of information, not objects."

Emory sat back deep into his chair.

"I see," he said again.

"You seem to be the right person," he continued, "but I am not sure if you are ready to see what I have to show you."

Zandra looked at him questioningly.

He eased up. "You are curious though, and that can be a determining factor."

Emory then stood up and walked out of the main room. Zandra wasn't sure whether to follow him, and simply sat in her chair, waiting for him to come back. She looked around her – though the room was dark, she could see books covering the walls, and a reclined seat a few meters away – was that a jacking-in chair? She could also see more monitors. What did this guy do in his free time?

Emory was walking back, holding what looked like a small disk.

"There is someone you will want to contact," he said, offering her the disk. She hesitated.

"He can show you how to fight the war,"

"We fight by taking others out," she replied.

"He knows more than you can imagine," he reassured her. She took the disk, but still eyed his suspiciously. What was he trying to get her to do?

"Who am I going to?"

"A man, he is in hiding."

"Who is he hiding from?"

"Everything," Emory stated bluntly, "he will explain everything once you see him,"

"Where will I find him?"

"You are questioning, and that is the first step. He is inside the matrix, hidden in a code that not many know of."

"This disk," Zandra waved it slowly, "will tell me where to go?"

"Step by step," he replied, "I cannot risk someone compromising the information. Once you get to a certain point, it will tell you the next step."

Zandra nodded slowly. Was this what Cover meant for her to do? Certainly it seemed like a daunting task, but this guy seemed bent on her doing it. There was something still nagging her.

"What will this man want me to do?"

"Fight. Fight like we have never done before,"

"Fight the system?"

"Yes," he said with a strange smile. _Definitely strange,_ Zandra thought. But if the councilpeople had recommended her to him…

"The tides will turn."

Zandra was silent. _The tides will turn? Meaning the war?_ She wasn't sure. So instead of saying anything in response, she merely nodded. It seemed to work, because Emory smiled.

"When should I go?"

"As soon as you can," he replied, now standing again. Zandra got up too, and he began to lead her out.

"Good luck, and remember: he knows much more than you can imagine,"

Zandra nodded again. _Wait!_ She had one more thing to ask.

"What is his name?"

Emory paused a moment, as if trying to recollect something. He looked down, and after a second back up again.

"Neo."

A/N ::: Okay do you see the connection now? I'm sorry if anything sounds contrived, I tried to make the characters as realistic as I could. The name Zandra means protector of men, just in case you were wondering about the title. I have five more chapters written, so stay tuned…


	12. Old Friends

Protector of Men Ch 12

_Okay_. So she knew what to do once she got back onto the ship and into the matrix, but what to do now? She was on a hallway, on some level in Zion, and had no idea where to go. _Where is Shade?_ She remembered that he had offered to room her, but where was he? She hadn't thought to find out where his room was first. This proved to be a problem, and a fairly large one.

For now, she would wander. _I'm getting fairly good at this_, she joked with herself while she entered a rusty elevator. She pressed the button to go down. Perhaps there was a common hall or something where she could find information.

A few seconds later the elevator stopped with a jolt. She stepped out quickly and took in the scenery as the doors creaked closed behind her. There was an open area ahead with chairs and sofas, as well as some people milling about. But she could also see the levels below her – upon looking closer Zandra found that the area in front of her was really only a wide corridor between two sides of the docking bay. She looked down and could see ships, maybe even Purgatory docked far below her. She was impressed by its vastness. A moment later she started walking across the walkway, intending nothing in particular. No one here would be able to help her find Shade; there were very few people out anyway.

Something made her stop. More exactly, _someone_ made her stop. He looked so _familiar_, like she had seen him before. Was that possible? She stared before she even realized that she was staring, and before long, he had noticed. The girl walking next to him noticed, too.

"Stephen."

The words came out before she even realized who he was. Stephen looked equally perplexed, as if he too were trying to place her. The girl next to him looked quizzically at Zandra, but she was not paying attention to the girl. It was _Stephen!_

"Alex?"

Ignoring the girl to his right, he walked closer to Zandra. She nodded mechanically.

"Stephen? Is that you?"

He nodded too. The girl caught back up to him, still watching Zandra.

"Zandra, he's _Tevy_ now," The girl said. Zandra was even more shocked that the girl knew her name, and suddenly wondered if she had drifted into a dream again.

"I'm from the Mayflower," The girl replied. It all came together now: _Stephen equals Tevy._

"Stephen, _Tevy_, you're out?" She pulled him into a messy hug, overwhelmed by what was happening.

"Zandra, you _weren't _supposed to find out this way," The girl said. Emotion began to get the best of Zandra, but she paid no attention. This time, it was warranted.

"After you disappeared, I got curious about everything," he said.

"It was only a few months."

"I know, I began to believe it even before you left."

"_Tevy_?"

"Hacking alias. Zandra?"

"They said it should be something other than my old name."

He nodded understandingly. The girl motioned for them to sit at one of the sofas near them. Both walked quickly, ready to catch up.

"You were traced?"

"Yeah, they said you were traced before me."

"I hear it's rare."

"Yeah."

They were silent, both unbelievingly grateful that they had a connection, a friend that they could truly trust in this new world. Zandra wanted to ask the question that still ate at her, that made her weep tearlessly during the nights, _was everyone okay?_ Was her family okay? Did they miss her?

But she didn't ask. Zandra knew that nostalgia was dangerous. Not that she wanted to go back, but just that it was still hard to let go. Stephen helped. _Tevy._

"Are you staying near here?" he asked curiously. Again Zandra wanted to pull a hand through her hair, but this time remembered not to. She kept her hands in her lap.

"Actually I don't know," she replied. "A friend of mine offered me his room, but I don't know where he is."

Stephen's face fell. "Oh."

"It's not like that," she replied hastily, "I had nowhere else to stay."

"Okay," he said. Zandra felt herself turning red. It wasn't a big deal: Shade offered her a place to stay, so she was staying there. This conversation should have involved only each other, not Shade. 

"How have you been?" she asked warmly, smiling with an almost sad face.

Stephen snorted. "Guess,"

"Lots of fun."

"Right."

"You should have seen me Alex," he started, "I wasn't happy when they got me out."

He turned to the girl now sitting next to him. She smiled, and he began to laugh quietly.

"I was not happy."

Zandra took his hand in hers and smiled. She knew what it felt like to be alone, to be uncomfortable in the new, cold, metal place. But now they had each other to fall on. They had their old friends back again. He looked up and smiled back, his eyes glossy.

"Zandra!"

She was jolted by the loud call, and pulled her hand back quickly. She craned her neck and saw Shade running towards her, clearly out of breath.

"Zandra!" he called again, slowing down as he came closer. Stephen turned around too. Shade stopped when he saw Stephen, but quickly regained his composure and sat down in a chair near Zandra.

"Oh," he said, "You found Tevy."

"Yeah," Zandra replied. The two, sitting so close to each other, was almost unnerving for her. They were so opposite, Shade shorter while Stephen was tall, Shade's hazel eyes with Stephen's dark brown, Shade's longer brown hair with Stephen's short red…

"I've been looking around for you forever."

"Me too," Zandra replied, not realizing the dual effect of her words.

"Did you talk to the council?"

"Yeah, and then I talked to some guy Emory."

Shade stared blankly at her. Clearly he didn't know who Emory was.

"Are you going to see the council?" Shade asked, turning to Tevy. He nodded.

"In the morning, it's too late now."

"Right," Shade said. "Speaking of late, we should check in." He got up, and offered Zandra a hand. She smiled fiendishly as she took his offer, but he didn't seem to be reminded of their battle a few days before. Stephen got up too. Zandra gave him another tight hug before they parted their ways for the night, reminding each other that they could always contact the ship if someone had to leave.

"So you met Tevy." Shade sighed as they stepped into another elevator. He punched a button and the elevator started going upwards.

"Yeah. Tevy."

"It wasn't meant to be like that."

"That's what I've heard."

"We wanted to let you know later."

"Well aren't _you_ just Mr. Talkative now…" she retorted, clearly aggravated. It sounded to her like they had _planned_ to keep it a secret.

"Look," he replied, "I wasn't speaking to you _because_ of Tevy."

"Really."

"_Really_. Cover told me not to say a word. Believe me, I felt bad _enough,_ okay?"

Zandra was quiet. Maybe it wasn't Shade's fault that she had been lied to. Maybe it wasn't even a lie. It probably would have been tough for her to handle Stephen's unplugging. _Maybe it had been for the best._

"But now, you know, we can talk again." 

"Sorry."

Now Shade was quiet. She took it as an acceptance of her apology. Time to change subject.

"I'm tired."

"Me too. I bet they grilled you."

"Not really, Emory talked the most." The elevator stopped, and Shade led her to the left, down a long open corridor.

"Who is this Emory guy?"

"I'm not sure," Zandra replied frankly, "He just told me to meet some guy in the matrix."

"What?" Shade gave her a look of confusion.

"Look," she pulled out the small disk, "I'm supposed to meet up with someone."

Shade took it and examined it closely. His eyes were wide.

"Cover will want to look at this." He stopped at a door, and pulled out a key from his front pants pocket. He opened it and gestured for Zandra to go in first. 


	13. Time To Go

Protector of Men Ch 13

Zandra stood with both hands on the table, leaning forward. _If these people didn't have anything constructive to say…_

"What if there was more to your theory?" the lady asked. Zandra had a hard time concentrating on her words because of her extremely strange choice of wardrobe; she was wearing a halter that definitely didn't look comfortable, and excruciatingly tight leather pants. She needed some fashion advice, but this was physics, not Runway 101.

"That's definitely a possibility," Zandra sighed, "Dr. Roberts' work _has_ shown that the holographic theory is plausible."

"What if we told you that we have proof that not only is it a hologram, but an _erroneous_ representation of the world surrounding us?" the man asked. He actually seemed more a boy than a man; he was much thinner and ganglier than the woman, as was he younger. He too wore black, but looked more sedate.

"Then I would ask you how you came up with that proof."

The two nodded at each other. The woman produced a card from her back pocket and handed it to Zandra.

"We can show you, but you have to come willingly. What you'd see would change your life."

"Change my life?" Zandra was skeptical.

"Come Friday at two, no later." the boy said. 

"I have class," Zandra replied. The two looked at each other again.

"What you will see is more than what Binns can teach you," the woman said, smiling at Zandra's token reaction of disbelief.

But they left before Zandra could ask. 

Shade walked into Zandra's bunk quietly as she slept; it was still early. They had left Zion only two days before, and she had lazed around most of the time. Once Shade had shown Cover the disk that one morning, Purgatory had been a whirlwind of movement. Only hours later they were back in the air, and headed towards broadcast depth. Alias was the only one that had not been especially curious to why they had left in such a hurry, but that was only because she was confident enough to know she would be told. Shade was supposed to stay quiet until Cover explained the mission. He had been ordered to go wake her up – it was time to go in, time to meet the new person.

"Zandra," Shade whispered, putting a gentle hand on her exposed shoulder. She sighed and turned.

"_Zandra_," he said again, a little louder.

"What," she replied groggily.

"You've got to eat something." 

"Why, it's early."

"Because you're going in today."

"What, already?" She began to get up slowly, rubbing her eyes as she lifted. Shade followed her into the mess room while she got out a bowl and spork.

"Two days was definitely not enough rest."

Shade laughed quietly. Zandra poured some slop into her bowl and began to eat, as difficult as it still was. At least she wasn't gagging.

"I can't believe I'm back to eating this crap," she sighed, letting the single-cell flop off her spork with a splash.

"Neither can I."

She ate quickly and silently. After putting away her bowl and spork, she followed Shade back into the main room. Kesia and Cover were waiting for her, and she could hear footsteps in the hallway. That was probably Alias and Trim. Cover motioned for her to sit down in the jacking chair.

"Are you sure that's _all_ he told you?" he asked, while handing Kesia the disk. Zandra nodded. Cover saw Alias and Trim walk in, and he motioned for them to sit in the other chairs. Shade was already laying in one.

"Kesia will call you when you can upload the next step," he told her while he too reclined into a chair, "and _I_ will keep watch."

Zandra smiled at Kesia, who returned it warmly.

"You going to be okay all alone?" Zandra asked.

"Of course," she replied, "I worry more about _you_."

Zandra shook her head. "No, it shouldn't be much." Kesia then got out of her operating chair and walked over to where Zandra lay. She was quickly strapped in.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Zandra replied, lying not only to Kesia, but to herself. Kesia had struck a chord with her comment, and it made Zandra wonder about the danger she would really face on this trip. Where was she going again?

The needle went in.

Soon enough all of the crew was standing around an old telephone in an empty room. Zandra looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing her favorite pair of jeans with a black tank. Her hair was back, pulled up in a half-ponytail. Everyone looked so different with 'normal' clothes on. Trim looked happier; more at home. Cover looked proud, like he was comfortable and confident now that he was in his medium. Shade looked blank. His brown hair fell neatly into his face, and he wore a slate crew shirt with black slacks… Everyone looked nice. The phone rang, and Cover picked it up. "We're in, you can download the first part."

Zandra felt a rushing of thought; her eyelids fluttered as her mind became jumbled. She couldn't think, she couldn't do _anything_ while the information flooded her mind, but soon it was done. She knew where to go.

Luckily they weren't very far away from their first destination. The disk had been labeled "Slums", so the group had assumed that they should look in the darkest parts first. They had been right. 

"We need a car," Zandra said suddenly. Cover flipped open his cellphone.

"Kesia," he asked, "Where's the nearest garage?"

They decided to take two cars, being that there were five of them. It would have been a tough fit into one, and they decided that two would be better - more mobile in case of attack. They headed into one of the shabbier districts of the city.

"What are we looking for?" Asked Trim. He had been placed in the car with Zandra and Cover. Zandra was driving an old corvette, and Alias in the other car was driving an old Mercedes. They had taken the nicest ones they could find. 'They're nice cars, the owners can afford new ones,' Alias had assured Zandra, who was a little less than willing to steal a coppertop's transportation.

"We're looking for 'liberte' street," Zandra replied. She took a sharp right. Minute by minute the streets darkened, the buildings more shabby, the passerby's more ghoulish.

"Is this a whore town?" Trim asked. Cover looked at him.

"_What_?"

"We're almost there," Zandra called out, breaking the momentary animosity from Cover to Trim. 

"Shit," Zandra whispered. The car swerved to the right. Cover instantly turned back to the front. A few feet in front of their speeding car stood an agent, immobile and staring. Zandra slammed on the gas, swerving back to the left in an attempt to miss him. He slammed against the side of the hood, leaving a large dent in their corvette, still bent over their car and still. _Oh god_, Zandra thought, _at least I killed him_.

The agent stirred from the top of her hood and began to crawl towards the windshield. They were still moving at forty. The agent wore a look of disgust on his face; his lips were curled up into a sneer that undoubtedly was meant for them.

"Zandra," Cover warned as the agent crept closer, always obstructing Zandra's view of the road. The agent began to reach for his gun. She didn't need to be told what to do – she slammed on her brakes and sent the agent flying forwards. If he wasn't dead before, he definitely was once Zandra had run him over. She didn't like doing it, but reminded herself that it would have killed her had it been given the chance. 

Cover pulled out his cellphone again. "Kesia," he said, "_Please _keep us informed on any agent sightings. Keep a lookout." 

Zandra screeched to a halt again. "We're here." 

Again she felt the rush of information, the momentary loss of control that meant she was getting the next step in her journey. But as quickly as it started it stopped again. She pulled herself out of the car; Cover and Trim soon followed. Alias and Shade pulled up a moment later.

"An agent _already_?" asked Alias. Shade looked worried.

"We handled it," replied Cover. 

"Where to?" asked Trim. Zandra was eyeing the building in front of them suspiciously. She knew that she had to go in, but what to do once she got in was a mystery to her. _Third door, second right, first left, third floor_. That's all she knew. It certainly was a suspicious building – an office complex in the ruddiest districts around? Who knew. But she did know that she had to go in alone.

"I have to go in alone," she said, still looking at the building. Cover glared at her.

"_Alone_? You never mentioned that."

"I didn't know," she replied honestly. Seeing Cover angry was not a fun thing to watch.

"We are staying here until you are safe."

"I'll let Kesia know when I get to the next step."

Cover nodded. The others looked apprehensive; Zandra noticed that Shade was shaking his head, as if telling her not to go. Alias seemed concerned, as well. But she _had_ to go alone, she knew it. It was a daunting task, but altogether unavoidable. 

She walked into the building. 


	14. Unexpected

Protector Ch 14

_Third door, second right, first left, third door._ That was all she knew, so she walked briskly up the spider-webbed stairs, climbing quickly and with purpose. Without the rest of the crew, she wasn't as protected, wasn't as safe. Images of conspiracy ran through her suddenly paranoid mind.

_First left._ Zandra found herself in a dimly lit hallway, darkened sconces on the messily wallpapered walls. What kind of office building was this?

_Second right._ She was thankful that it was a short distance to her next upload. 

_Third door._ For the third time Zandra's eyes began to flutter, her mind swimming with new information. _Wait,_ there was something else that had to be done before she could go through the door. A key? 

_Third ceiling panel to your right, second row._ Well that seemed particularly easy, Zandra thought. She jumped up and knocked out the ceiling panel, pieces of wood and dust falling slowly to the floor. There was the key, now halfway exposed on the paneling square. She jumped up and grabbed it. This wasn't so bad after all…

She inserted the key into the door and opened it, closing it behind herself. There were no more directions this time, no fluttering of the eyes, no jumbling of thoughts that made Zandra know that she was heading in the right direction. Had she gone through the wrong door after all? The key worked, so it couldn't have been. She looked around – it was a well-lit conference room with a long wooden table in front of her. There were more plants along the side of the walls. A chair was turned away from her at the end of the table, making Zandra feel uneasy.

__

"Ms. Richards," a voice said from behind the chair, "I'm glad you could join me."

"Neo?"

The chair turned around. "Not quite." The man sat with his legs crossed in the chair, his fingers forming a steeple resting on his thin lips. He sat immobile, stoic.

Zandra backed towards the door again, "You're an agent," she whispered to herself. Her cellphone rang, but Zandra didn't answer it. It rang incessantly as the agent got up slowly and straightened his jacket.

"Yes, I am an agent. Do you remember me?"

"My project, you were there."

"Exactly," he replied, "You are quite the _scientist_, Ms. _Richards_,"

"I just showed everyone what they can already see." Her cellphone stopped ringing.

"Well, you can word it however you want, but the fact is," he started to walk towards her, "you have _potential_."

Zandra was becoming afraid. She tried to open the door behind her, but it was locked. The agent smiled.

"Yes, you'll notice I put a lock on that," he said coolly, taking a step closer, "It's no use trying to get out."

"But as I was saying," he continued, taking of his sunglasses, "you have _potential_."

"Potential to kill you," she said back, now retreating to the other side of the table. They were now across the room from each other, Zandra matching his advances with sufficient evasions.

"Now now, let's not be _hasty_," he said, "There will be no killing here." He walked to the right, Zandra to the left. "At least… not from you."

"Was this a trap?" Zandra asked, trying to keep the conversation going while she formulated a plan of attack.

"_Tsk, Tsk_ Ms. Richards, of course not. You just happened to disturb a mission of mine that I have been planning."

"A mission."

"But why waste my time," he asked, stepping onto the table between them, "I have more _important_ things to do, Ms. Richards." The agent pulled his sunglasses back on. Zandra knew that it was almost time - she had to make her move now. 

She pulled out the pistol that she had been given hours before and began to shoot. Like before, he disappeared in a blur of motion, dodging every bullet that she shot. Six left, five left, she was running out of bullets quickly. _Where to go?_

She was out of bullets. There were no doors around her, the ceiling was solid; it looked to her like there was no way out. 

"Ms. Richards, I'm disappointed in you," he said again, pulling out his gun, "I expected _much_ more from a _lovely_ woman such as yourself."

And he too began to shoot. Time slowed down as Zandra began to move to the right, hoping that he would aim more for her heart. He did. _They always aim right_, she remembered. Everything was going so slowly, yet Zandra shouted at herself to move faster. It was like she was trying to run in water; expending all her energy but moving hardly at all. He emptied three shots at her, and all got nothing.

_Faster!_ She yelled at herself as she moved back to the left, knowing that he would have registered her movement by now. She almost skidded as she stopped her momentum, but was able to regain her balance. _Shit,_

She had been hit. Not badly, but her side burned from a clip_. It's not much_, she thought to herself, _you can still operate_. The agent was out of bullets. She watched with trepidation as he got back off the table and threw his gun to the side. Zandra tensed her muscles and stood back up, the blood beginning to stain her shirt.

"Ms. Richards," the agent said in a mockingly worried voice, "I believe you've been _hit_."

Zandra clenched her teeth. "It's only a scratch," she replied tersely.

"But of course."

She was hiding a secret, though. She had come into the matrix with two guns, not just one. And the second one was meant for just this situation. It was hidden in her back pocket, under the fabric of her jacket - and he either neglected to observe it, or had not a clue. The agent stood across from Zandra, straightening his tie. He thought he was going in for the kill, but Zandra knew otherwise. 

"I'll be sorry to see you leave," he said, cocking his head to one side, "you were _entertaining,_ for a moment."

"I'm sorry then," Zandra replied. 

He sneered and leapt towards Zandra. She knew it was coming and instantly pulled out her second gun, knowing that in the air he could not dodge. She emptied her clip on him, and he took four. His smug expression turned confused as he began to fall instead of soar. Smoke issued from her gun.

The agent fell in a heap on top of her. She recoiled in horror, afraid he was still alive. It hurt to run, but she got to the side of the room and aimed at the agent again. She shot him once more for good measure. 

The agent turned a blinding white and morphed into a man about Zandra's age. He was wearing sweatpants and a jacket, headphones over his ears. _Such a shame_, Zandra thought, _I had to kill him_.

Zandra's phone rang again.

"Zandra, what the hell happened?" It was Kesia, and she sounded very nervous.

"There was an agent."

"Yeah I know that, how did he get in there? He wasn't on the coding."

"I don't know - where do I go next?"

"You should be right there."

"Ok, I'll figure it out then."

"Keep alert."

"I know."

"But when-" 

The phone suddenly went dead. Zandra stood still, eyeing her phone with distrust. She knew that cellphones were the most reliable source of communication, and they didn't just go dead. She shoved her phone back in her pocket and kept her gun cocked, ready for another attack if it came. 


	15. Lonliness

Protector Ch 15

Zandra was clueless, and fidgety. Should she go back outside and see if the last directions would re-upload into her? Again she wondered if she had done something wrong. She walked over to the door she came in through and jiggled the handle. It was still locked. She tried to bang it open, but it didn't work. She kicked it with a force much larger than any normal door would be able to withstand, but it still did not open. 

She turned back around to survey the room around her once more. No doors, no windows, wait – a _door_? Zandra could have sworn that there was nothing there before, or else she wouldn't have had to fight the agent…

It was the same color of the walls, the same greenish-gray that pervaded the room and made her feel almost claustrophobic. But there was a handle, and there were definitely lines forming the silhouette of the door. She walked over to it, curious. She jiggled the handle with her free hand, and it opened. Through the door was another dimly lit room that she now entered.

"Hello, Zandra," said a voice from the shadows. She steadied her gun.

"There are no agents here," the voice said. A man walked out from behind the shadows and sat in a chair. He motioned for her to sit across from him. She briefly looked around; this somewhat reminded her of the place she and Shade had sparred in. There was the same old-world feel here as the upload.

Kesia was dumbfounded. A second earlier Zandra had been in the room with the agent, and now she was nowhere to be seen. Kesia immediately alerted Cover, who had been walking back to his car.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Zandra's just disappeared."

"You can't find her code?"

"No, she was just fighting an agent."

Cover became very interested. "How did she do?"

"Well, I guess – she's alive, and she was able to kill him."

"Is she ok?"

"She got shaved, but she's okay. She was allright last I checked, but now…"

"She's resourceful."

"Right."

"An exit?"

"Neo?" Zandra asked, squinting in an attempt to discern the dim figure in front of her.

"Yes. I'm sorry about the agent, but I had to make sure that you were the right person."

"I see." Zandra came closer, and Neo's body came into the dim light. She was almost startled. He looked tall, dark hair that fell into his eyes, slim yet powerfully built… He didn't _look_ like an informant.

"You're hit," he said, looking closely at her side. Zandra looked down and sure enough, the blood was still there. She had almost forgotten about it with everything, but now that she was reminded of it, the pain seeped back.

"It's just a clip, I'll survive."

"Wait." Neo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Everything was unnaturally silent. Zandra felt the stinging subside, replaced by a tingling feeling. Neo opened his eyes again, and the tingling stopped. Zandra looked down at herself, somewhat bewildered. The blood was still there, but she wasn't in pain anymore.

"What?" she whispered, almost to herself. She looked at Neo, asking how, but he either did not recognize her look, or didn't wish to answer it.

"You were told to come here?" 

Zandra tried to get her mind back on track, and blinked a few times.

"By a man named Emory."

"Good," Neo said, settling back into his chair.

"Why are you hiding here?" she asked. She wasn't sure if her question was valid, but went ahead anyway.

"I am hiding from the system," he replied. Zandra stared at him confusedly. She wouldn't understand yet, and Neo was a little worried that she wouldn't be able to take what he had to give her. But, if this was what Emory had to give him, he had to at least try.

"You haven't answered my question."

Neo paused for a moment. Her comment sounded familiar, like something he had said before. A lifetime ago. But now was not the time to reminisce.

"Right," he said slowly, "But only because I'm not sure you can take the answer."

"Try me."

Neo sighed. If that's what she wanted, he might as well go for it.

"I come from an older version of the Matrix."

"Bullshit," was Zandra's immediate reply, half in joking disbelief, and half in doubt. Again Neo felt the odd memory, he had said this before, he had gone through this before...

"There is only one version," she continued, staring him down. Inside Zandra's mind was running overdrive, there _was_ only one… right? Another _Zion_? Maybe this guy was just another liar… another program? This was too radical to believe, though lately it seemed like every moment was dedicated to a new epiphany.

"How would you know otherwise?" Neo countered. He had to be careful not to sound condescending while explaining the truth; there was so much the rest of the world didn't know, and it was hard to stay humble when knowledge was the only thing he possessed.

"We would."

"It's been done before. All of this."

"How would _you_ know?"

"I was in your situation. They called _me_ the One too-"

"The _one_?"

Neo was confused, and momentarily off-track. Could it be possible that Emory sent someone other than the One? Obviously she manifested traits of one-ness, but had the Oracle not contacted them yet?"I could see the code," he replied in explanation, "I could do _anything_. They told me I would end the war."

"They haven't said _anything_ about a '_one_'." Zandra was almost triumphant.

"They will if they haven't already."

Zandra still didn't believe him. "How do you _know_?"

"The programs have every form of control, the Oracle will contact you and _tell_ you you're the one."

"How can I trust you?"

Neo was caught with the question that he had hoped she would not ask.

"I guess it's hard to tell."

"Yeah."

"You should know though," he started again, "That if I lead you astray, I have _everything_ to lose." 

He sighed inwardly.

"Why are you hiding?" Zandra repeated. 

"I was supposed to die, supposed to be deleted. But I decided to hide instead."

"How long have you been here?"

"Thirty years, about."

Zandra suddenly noticed the connection. "Zion," she whispered. Though the connection could have easily been fabricated, it struck her as genuine.

"Yeah," he said, noticing her epiphany, "It's been thirty or so years since it was founded, hasn't it."

She knew that he could have lied, but took his word. Neo seemed pensive, sad perhaps. Why would a machine tell her so much without a purpose?

"Was there another Zion?"

"Seven, now." 

They were both silent. Memories of Zion began trickling back, memories that he had tried so hard to forget. The floodgates were leaking and threatened to finally burst after all these years of nothingness. He remembered the people he had saved, the people he couldn't, everyone who had believed in him… And he had failed. Where was he now? In a corner of the Matrix that he had locked up for himself. No contact at all, just his little marooned island of living. And it wasn't even living; it was merely a technicality of existence. Sometimes he almost wished he _were_ dead, maybe he could be with Trinity, if there was such a thing as an afterlife. It hurt him to even think about it. He had let her die; he had let her fall to the ground and die without even _trying_ to save her. _Why?_ So that he could start the matrix and Zion anew. He thought he was being humane; letting his love go for the survival of all… but it was all for nothing. She was his lifeline – she was his reason for fighting, for living. He had only truly lived when he was with her. What had he been thinking? And now it was all going to happen the way it had before. _All over again. _It already was.

Zandra broke the long silence. "How could we have not known?"

"How could you?"

Zandra paused, nodding. "But why contact us?"

"Maybe knowing the past can help us win the war." You_. You win the war._ No matter what happened, he knew that there would be no way for him to get out of the matrix. If the matrix was destroyed, he would be exterminated as well. But he was willing to make the sacrifice. 

"So what do I do now?"

"Don't let on that anything is different," he replied. Neo was glad to think about moving forward.

"You mean don't tell anyone."

"Right. If the system finds out you know-"

"Then it's already over."

"Right." Again, back to death. Back to Neo's assimilation into the program. He wondered if it felt anything like dying did, or if it was more of a meltdown… he wasn't sure. Did programs feel pain? 

Of course, that was a pointless question. His existence now consisted solely of it. 

Zandra sighed. "So what do I do?"

"Learn as much as you can," he offered, "Free as many as you can."

Zandra nodded, but she still was not sure. "How do I know you're not a program?"

Neo looked downwards, his face blank and emotionless.

"You can't."

Zandra was quiet. But for some reason, she still trusted him – he just seemed too human, too _lonely_ to be a machine.

Neo stood up. It was probably time for her to go – it had been at least twenty minutes since she had first come in. He watched her closely, curious to see how she would react, but didn't worry. Emory would not have sent someone unless they were qualified to know the truth. Zandra stood up too now, pulling her shirt down as she did. He had been somewhat surprised by her appearance – he had expected not only a man, but an older man. She seemed so young, so fragile, so _beautiful_. Of course, he should have been used to strong women. But no, Neo could never think of another woman as beautiful, not after Trinity…. Neo's heart dropped again as he thought of her.

"Can I come back?" Zandra asked, again breaking the silence. Neo realized that he had been staring at her, and quickly shook his head a few times to clear his brain.

"Yeah," he replied, "Keep me informed."

Zandra nodded as he began to walk to the door she had come through. He didn't want her to leave; he wanted to talk, to see how things were going, to _have contact_, but knew that she had to go. It had been almost a half-hour since she had come. And she had learned a lot; she probably needed time to let everything sink in. He gestured for her to open the door.

"I can't go out," he said. Zandra nodded slowly, opening the door. A rushing sound accompanied the creak of the door, as if air was flowing out of the room. She smiled, and closed the door behind her. Neo was alone again, and retreated back into the darkness of his fortress.


	16. Return

Protector Ch 16

Zandra walked quickly down the stairs of the building. She was a little shocked, a little scared, and a little sad. She felt bad for Neo, he had lost so much and seemed so lonely… he wasn't even a human being anymore. Just a shell. A hollow man. Zandra noted that she should visit him again.

Her cellphone rang.

"Yeah,"

"Where the _hell_ did you go?" Kesia was mad.

"A room?" Zandra guessed, "I met the informant there."

"Well, Cover is coming back in now to make sure you get out."

"Ok," Zandra said. She got to the first floor and walked over to the door. Maybe now wasn't the best time to walk out of the building yet – it was a dangerous part of town. There were probably prostitutes around, and Zandra didn't want to risk seeing their grotesqueries plastered all over the place.

"What did he tell you?" Kesia asked. Zandra waited a moment before answering, and decided to go with what Neo had advised.

"He said we have to unplug people."

"That's helpful."

"_Really_." She felt bad, but playing him down was probably the best thing to do for the moment. 

"Cover should be over there in a second," Kesia continued, "He'll bring you some ammunition in case."

"Thanks," Zandra said, and closed her phone. If he was in, then she could probably get moving. She opened the door to the outside and began to walk towards the road.

She had been right – in the time that Zandra had been in the building, more whores had found their way into the district and were now milling about in small groups. Not surprisingly, Zandra didn't see any cars milling about. She began to walk back the way she had driven an hour before, wandering down the street and still thinking about Neo. 

He _seemed_ to be trustable enough. He would have to be the greatest impostor in the world to not only convince her and Emory of his righteousness, but also the council of Zion. He seemed to be in control of himself, even though thirty years with little to no human contact… suffice to say Zandra had read stories of suicides more humane than Neo's current status. 

Her heeled boots scuffed on the concrete sidewalk as she continued to walk. She was now almost reluctant to go back home now that things were so different. But there were other things to do. She looked around her, taking in her surroundings. It was a shame that everything around her wasn't real, she thought that she would even grow to like the dingy alleys and old buildings. Hell, this world used to be _home_. 

"Renée, Renée, where you goin'?" A lady shouted. Zandra glanced to her left; it looked like a group of prostitutes had finally had enough of each other. One woman, probably Renée, was now stomping away from the rest of the clique in her high orange stilettos. A flurry of words escaped from Renée, Zandra guessed it was some form of profanity. She had to keep herself from laughing.

"Renée? _Renée!_" the same lady shouted, now sounding hysterical. _What was the big deal_? Zandra took a closer look. The other women began to scream as Renée became someone else. The woman's body convulsed as it took the form of another; of an agent.

"Renée?" the lady asked, almost pleadingly. The agent was complete now, and pulled out his gun. The women began to shriek. He shot the one lady, and crossed the street towards Zandra.

She was weaponless, in a street with people. It didn't look good.

"Ms. _Richards_," the agent said, wiping off his gun with a handkerchief, "so _nice_ to see you _alive_ and _well_."

Zandra figured that she should try and make time, maybe Cover would get to her before the agent did. It was a stretch, but Kesia would know what was going on and would pass it on.

"I didn't catch your name," she said, standing firmly and facing him as he continued to approach.

"I didn't give it,"

Zandra was quiet.

"Agent Brown," he replied.

"You missed the fun."

Brown's eyes narrowed. Did he not know of the other agent's attack earlier? Zandra decided to go one step further.

"You should have seen it back there, that other agent was quite surprised when I got him."

"Well, Ms. Richards, I'm sure that any previous _errors_ can be rectified."

Zandra was quiet again. Her plan hadn't turned out the way she wanted it to… _please let Cover come soon!_ The agent was now standing in the street, remaining at least a car's length away from her. But he wasn't attacking yet, and that was good.

"Ms. Richards, I think you have information that would be of _use _to us." 

"_Really_." _Shit,_ Zandra thought, did he already know she had contacted Neo?

"_Sarcasm_, Ms. Richards, will get us nowhere."

"Information," Zandra replied, "On what?"

"I think you _know_ the _answer_, Ms. Richards." He took off his sunglasses, revealing cold, unblinking eyes. Zandra tried to hold up under his gaze.

"We are _very _close," he continued, "And I think you can tell me where I can find what we have been looking for."

Brown began to wipe off his sunglasses with his handkerchief. Why was he taking so long? _Come on, Cover…_

"Ms. Richards, we know you'll be _obliged_ to help," a voice said from her right. She spun around. _Another agent_. He must have registered her immediate fear, because he smiled a cold and heartless grin.

"_Yes_, Ms. Richards, Jones - at your _service_."

"What do you want _me_ to do?" she asked, feigning an attitude. Hopefully, they couldn't see through it.

"Oh Ms. Richards, there's no need for fear."

"If you assist, we can make it painless." Jones pulled out his gun and eyed it admiringly. _Please Cover, hurry up!_

"You will help us find the anomaly."

"What anomaly?" she asked. Her retorts grew thinner as the moments passed, soon enough they would get tired of it… she hated to think of what would happen then. 

"Ms. Richards, you are _trying_ us," said Brown, his sunglasses back on. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at Zandra's arm. "Perhaps you need some convincing?"

"N-no," Zandra replied, moving her arm. Her mind was beginning to shut down. Brown smiled. He was going to shoot her, she knew it. She saw his hand move for the trigger, saw it pressing down… she had to get out of the way, but how? Zandra put all of her weight on her left foot, hoping that just a small movement would pull her far enough away from the hit… she saw Brown's smile fade as the trigger clicked, his arm moved to the left, matching hers - he had registered her movement. The explosion started, the bullet already coming at her, Zandra knew that Brown had moved the gun. Aiming at her heart. She pulled as quickly as she could to the right, as far as her legs would take her in the split second she had before the bullet would hit. _Further, further_, she coerced herself as the bullet flew towards her. It aimed now at her lung, her shoulder… _just a little further…_

Zandra heard another gun click. It was Jones, he had decided to join in on the shoot-em-up, as well. She knew that she couldn't fight against two, she couldn't dodge bullets from two guns at once. _One was hard enough. _

She heard the gun cock, and another shot rang out.


	17. Too Slow

Protector Ch 17

It was all over. Zandra writhed on the ground, coughing up blood. It hurt _so much_, it felt _so real_, Zandra's instinct took over again and she forgot everything she had been taught. It just hurt _so badly_. She stared at the ground in front of her, watching the puddle of blood wander its way across the concrete.

"I'm _sorry_, Ms. Richards," Jones said, walking over to her injured body. "But sometimes, we have to suffer the consequences."

He cocked his gun, and aimed at Zandra again. Brown just stood where he was, smiling his cold smile. Zandra could only see his shoes – his shiny, immaculate shoes. But she _knew_ that he would be smug, _knew_ he would be smiling as he watched her die. As she bled to death. Alone. _Cover… come…_

Jones shot again. 

"Come _on_, Cover, we _don't have time_!"

"Shade, I'm going as fast as I can. Just _be ready_."

"I _am _ready!"

"Then it's just a matter of time."

Jones shot again. And then Brown emptied his own gun. Something was frustrating them, Zandra could tell. She was still in so much pain, everything seemed dim around her… She saw Brown's feet coming closer to her. A rough hand picked her up and threw her against the nearest building. Zandra was too dazed to care, it hurt so much, there was so much blood everywhere. She could taste it in her mouth, smell it in the air, feel it damp on her hands and clothes…

"Why won't they _work_."

Brown was tense. 

"It is a glitch,"

"Then we should try again."

"There they are," Shade shouted, "I've got everything ready."

"Kill them first."

Both agents registered the sound at the same time. They turned around simultaneously, both realizing just a moment too late that they were about to be terminated. Shade, his face furrowed in concentration, let loose a volley of rifle fire that had the agents out before they knew that it was coming. In only a second, Zandra's threat was gone.

"Out!" Cover shouted. The car screeched to a halt, and as it did, Shade leapt out of the window to the sidewalk. He went over to Zandra, still writhing helplessly on the ground.

"Zandra," he breathed, adrenaline pumping. He had to help her quickly – it didn't look like she would be able to take any more… He took off his leather jacket to get to his undershirt to tie her up, but where was the bullet wound?

"I'm sorry, this might hurt," he offered, taking her in his arms. Her face was pallid and cold, a sheen of sweat showing on her brow. Her breathing was shallow, and made no gesture of recognition. She only whimpered as he gently lifted her up, looking for the source of blood.

"Shade, we don't have time." It was Cover, standing close to them. He looked around expectantly. "There will be more."

Shade nodded. "I'm sorry," he repeated, and pulled Zandra off of the ground. She didn't scream, but Cover could tell from her facial expression and sudden gasps that she was in pain.

"Lay her in the back and take care of it," he said, ushering Shade back to the car. He nodded again. Zandra still whimpered. "It hurts," she kept on repeating, almost mumbling the words to herself.

Cover turned back to Shade and her. "Zandra, listen to me. You can stop the damage now if you just _take control of yourself_."

Shade glared at him, but Cover ignored it. Zandra stopped whimpering. They all piled into the car and began the drive back to the phone, back to Purgatory. Shade again lifted Zandra up to see where the bullet had hit her. There it was, Shade could see a small hole at the back of her side. Luckily, it had not gone far, because Shade could even see the bullet itself, lodged in her back. _That's what probably caused all the pain_, Shade figured. 

"The bullet it still in," he said to Cover, beginning to dab at her wound. Zandra began to whimper again, but gritted her teeth. It seemed like for the moment, she was beginning to come back. The blood was running less; but whether it was from clotting or loss, neither knew.

"We can't do it right now," warned Cover, who began to drive faster, "She'll survive for now,"

Shade sighed and looked into Zandra's eyes. They were fearful, but also somewhat controlled. "I'm sorry," he said softly, "We'll have to wait until you're out." Zandra nodded slowly, as if to say it was okay. And then everything became blurry. The light around Zandra seemed to dim, and she thought night was coming. _Okay,_ she thought, _fine by me…._


	18. Resuscitation

Protector Ch 18

"How has she been?"

"Fine, by most standards."

"And the wound?"

"Mostly healed, it's now just a small hollow inside,"

"To be expected."

"Right."

"When do you think she'll wake?"

"A few hours, maybe."

"Good. Have someone stay."

"I will."

Cover walked away, back into the cockpit. He left Alias alone in the medical bay to tend to Zandra. It had been a day since she went into the Matrix – a day of silence, of near panic while the whole crew went into action to help her heal. It was a group effort.

She had come out of the matrix unconscious. Alias had been waiting, and once Zandra was unplugged, she lifted her into the medical bay and put her on support. Shade followed at a close second, demanding to know how he could help. Epinephrine, Lidocaine, everything they had was somehow used for her within minutes. Soon they were able to stop the internal bleeding, and once that was done there was nothing _left _to do but wait.

Even the waiting had been a group effort. Each of the crew had offered their turn of the watch. It was now Alias' turn, after Trim and before Shade. It wasn't exciting – Zandra's vitals were stable – so she mainly read while she waited.

After an hour or two, Shade came in for his shift.

"You're early."

"Not much though."

"Okay," she sighed, "you offered."

Shade smiled and rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. Alias shook her head and smiled, then left the room. His first hour went by excruciatingly slowly. There was nothing for him to read, nothing for him to do – so he stared at the wall, pondered her situation… _What had happened?_ They knew that there were agents at least a minute before the two had reached her, so why hadn't she been shot at earlier? He found it amazing that she escaped the two agents with only one hit. He shook his head slowly. Truly amazing.

Zandra's body stirred, a foot moved under the sheets. Shade was alert, he was ready for her to be awake again.

"Zandra?"

"Mmmmmmm?" was the response. Her arms began to stretch, but stopped short. "Ah."

"You're okay, you're back in Purgatory,"

Zandra began to open her eyes slowly, as if testing out what she would see. She looked over to Shade, and her blank expression turned dark.

"Oh," she started, but didn't finish. Shade made an '_its okay'_ face.

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes closed. Shade almost blushed, but stayed nonchalant.

"No, don't thank me," he said quickly, waving his hand and shaking his head at the same time, "It was my fault you were there."

"Your fault?" was her slow and crackly response. Her morning voice sounded almost humorously childish to him, even if it was the morning after she had been almost mortally wounded.

"I made Cover let me go in with him, it took more time that way."

"Oh,"

Shade regretted saying it. Now the air around them was uncomfortable. "So," he offered, "I'm really the one that should be sorry,"

"No, nonoooo,"

She sighed and closed her eyes again. Then her brows furrowed, she opened her eyes once more.

"How many times was I hit?"

"Only once," Shade replied, "You did amazing out there,"

Zandra was quiet for a moment. "No - are you sure?"

"Yes, I _am_." Zandra sighed at his firmness.

"No, they shot me again after the first time, I remember it, they shot me once, and I fell, and they came up and shot me again, but I was too hurt, and then they said something, and….." she trailed off into silence, as if she had lost her train of thought. 

"Don't worry about it now," Shade soothed, "Just rest."

Zandra sighed again and nodded a few times before falling back into sleep. 

She woke up two hours later, Trim in the room. She glanced at him and smiled briefly.

"I'm hungry,"

He smiled back at her. "I'll get Cover."

He came back a minute later with Cover in tow, Cover's arms crossed as if he wasn't sure what to expect. Once he caught sight of Zandra's alighted face, he uncrossed them.

"You think you're ready to eat something?"

"Well, I'm hungry."

Cover smiled and gestured for Trim to go to the other side of the bed. They both lifted an arm, helping her get up. She winced as she sat up – her back still hurt from the shot. But it was too late now to fix it, she'd have to live with the wound the hard way until it was healed. Hobbling down the hallways with two men at her arms, Zandra slowly made her way into the mess room. Trim graciously got her a bowl and spork, and even filled it up for her.

"Thanks," she managed, beginning to eat. This time, it actually tasted good. But maybe that was aided by the fact that she hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours…

"You should continue to rest today," said Cover, folding his arms again. _Maybe he always folded his arms when he was thinking something stern…_

"I don't feel like resting though," Zandra replied, her mouth full of slop, "I feel like doing regular stuff,"

Cover looked down.

"What…"

He sat down across from her. _This can't be good._

"We got a contact from the Mayflower this morning,"

That meant Stephen. _Tevy. _

"And?"

"They were in the matrix."

Zandra was becoming impatient, "And?"

Cover paused. Maybe she had gone too far.

"They were contacted by a man asking for you."

She was quiet this time, but silently urged him to continue.

"He told them an Oracle wanted to see you."

_Oh_, that was it. _Damn_, Zandra thought, _it's happening much faster than I thought._

"Do you know of an Oracle?"

Zandra paused before answering_. Don't say too much…_

"I was told of one by the informant."

Cover nodded. Zandra was almost done with her slop, and was now scooping it up ravenously from the sides of her bowl. 

"We should contact them then," Zandra replied.

"Not today."

"Tomorrow?"

"Perhaps, if Alias thinks you are ready."

"Allright then."

Cover stood back up and walked silently out of the room. Zandra blinked twice – the conversation definitely had been strange. If he didn't want her going back in now, why would he tell her? Maybe they needed confirmation from the Mayflower or something. Trim shrugged and walked out too, leaving Zandra with an empty bowl of slop. 

Now how was she going to get out of the room?


	19. Raring To Go

Protector of Men Ch 19

It was night. Zandra was laying uncomfortably on her bed, trying to find a position where her back didn't ache, but so far it proved useless. Shade sat on the ground across from her, his hands resting on his knees. Both wanted to _really _talk, but neither knew how to open up to the other. 

Zandra shifted again. "My back hurts still."

"It wasn't a bad hit though, the bullet went through mostly skin."

Zandra whispered a laugh. "You mean my _fascia_…?"

"Well, no, I mean, you-"

Zandra laughed louder, "It's okay, I was only kidding."

"Right."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"So what's with this oracle thing?" Zandra waited a moment before responding, remembering not to reveal much. 

"I'm not sure, all I know is that she was going to contact us."

"You just heard it from the informant?"

"Yeah."

"That seems pretty fast."

"I know." The same thought had run through Zandra's mind, as well. _Why had Cover mentioned it so early?_ Surely he would have thought that Zandra had been through enough, thought that throwing out her contact would have been too much… but maybe he thought she could handle it.

"I think Cover is going to get us backup for the jack-in," Shade continued, "I heard him talking to the Calling."

"The Calling?"

"Yeah."

And they continued to talk for another hour, still closed from each other, still uncomfortable with the unusual tension between them. Zandra's replies soon became more slurred and uncommon, more simplistic as the night grew into morning. Shade took his cue and left with a quiet 'goodnight'. Zandra woke up the next morning feeling better, but not completely. Her back was still painful, even though the pain was duller than before. She walked stiffly out of her room and wandered over to Cover.

"Are we going in today?"

"How do you feel?"

"Pretty good," she said as honestly as she could. Cover looked at her intensely.

"I'll get Alias to look at you."

They both walked over to the mess room, where Alias was eating. Cover asked for a moment, and she joined them in a journey to the med bay. From there, Alias gave Zandra a thorough looking-over, one that was quick, but a little painful. Zandra tried not to wince as she poked at the wound in her back.

"Well," she started, "It looks like it's healing well, but I'd give it another day,"

Zandra gave her a pleading look, but Alias was looking at Cover, not her.

"Okay," Cover replied, "we'll go in tomorrow."

It was an excruciatingly long day, but Zandra got through it alive. She woke up the next morning extra early, hoping that maybe if they all got ready sooner, they'd be able to get in earlier. She didn't know whether she was excited or nervous, but every time Zandra thought about the upcoming meeting, a rush of adrenaline shot through her system. It was probably both – Zandra wanted to see what this oracle would say, but was worried that if he or she was good, they would know of Neo. And she didn't want to lose her informant before getting anywhere. After all, they _were_ fighting a war.

She was on the main deck with Kesia, and they were discussing the course of events that would take place in the next few hours.

"The Mayflower gave us a location to look for this Oracle-"

"Why aren't they coming with us then?" Zandra's mind went to Stephen – she wanted to see him again, to talk with him…

"They were still understaffed," came Kesia's quick reply. Zandra was quiet.

"Anyway, there should be someone waiting for you at the location."

"Am I going alone?"

"No, no, there will be others with you, I think the whole crew of the Calling is coming along this time," she paused, before adding, "We don't want to make another mistake."

Another mistake? Zandra's jack-in was considered a mistake now? She was a little offended by the comment, but hoped that Kesia didn't mean what she said. 

Cover walked in.

"Ready?"

"Sure am,"

"Kesia, has the Calling contacted you yet?"

"About twenty minutes ago, they said whenever you're ready,"

"Good then. Where are Shade and Alias?"

Zandra piped up, "I think they're in the mess room."

"Kesia, call them up."

"Okay," she replied, pulling on her headset and punching a button on the huge panel in front of her. "Alias and Shade, come up to the main deck when you're ready to go,"

"Good," Cover repeated. "There should be seven of us there – you, me, Alias, Shade, Isa, Pasiphae, and Wrought, the Calling's captain. We will go with you to the location, but the Mayflower relayed to us that they specifically said for you to go alone after that."

"Okay."

Cover continued to look at her. 

"I can do that," she assured, her gaze steady.

"Alright then."

Shade and Alias came up and promptly sat in the chairs, ready to go. Zandra's heart fell as she watched Trim help to strap them all in. She smiled sympathetically, but he didn't even look at her. Soon they were all strapped in and ready to go. 

"Have you told the Calling we are ready?" asked Cover from his chair.

"They're ready to go as well," she replied.

"Alright, load us up then," he replied. Trim went to Cover first, and in minutes they were in the matrix again, all crowded around another phone. Funny, even in realizing the lie of the matrix, their lives still revolved around the phone. Zandra would never get away from it.

"We're in," came Cover's announcement. He promptly closed his phone and gestured for them to go out the door of the large and empty room they were in. 

They all stopped short as they registered a thumping noise from the floor above them. 


	20. Rhyme and Meter

Protector of Men Ch 20

"It is just the Calling coming in," Cover said to the group. They immediately relaxed. Zandra took Cover's cue and strolled out of the room, which opened up to a hall, equally old and decrepit. Zandra could see dust floating through the musty air. Purgatory walked slowly out into the hall, watching the top of the stairs near them expectantly. It only took a moment for the Calling to come out. There were only three of them, but they certainly made their presence known.

"Hello, Cover," said Wrought. He was asian, wearing grey slacks and a black oxford. His long hair was tied in a low ponytail, and he wore a smile that broadened when he saw Zandra.

"Zandra," he said.

"Hello," she replied quietly back. The two women behind Wrought said their quiet hello's as well. 

"This," he continued, gesturing to a small lady to his right, "Is Isa." She had dark skin, and her hair was short and spiked up. She was dressed in a leather skirt with a small brown halter. She smiled as Wrought introduced her. "Hi," she repeated.

"And this," he gestured to a very tall lady to his left, "Is Pasiphae." Pasiphae, on the other hand, was paler and had longer hair. Her tall stature was mostly imparted by her long legs, hidden in black slacks. Her hair, which was longer than Isa's but shorter than Zandra's, was swept neatly behind her small ears. They both looked experienced, and were a little intimidating to Zandra. Nonetheless, she smiled broadly. 

"I assume you already know the rest of my crew?" Came Cover's polite reply.

"Of course," Wrought said, coming down the steps. "Are we ready to go?"

Cover gestured towards the door. "Right this way."

Luckily the area around them was deserted, yet every few seconds Zandra made paranoid sweeps looking for agents. Shade put a soothing arm on her shoulder, but it only served to startle her. She blushed sheepishly as he jumped away.

"Sorry," he offered. Zandra laughed quietly. "No, it's okay," she whispered back. They continued to walk down the middle of the cobbled street in silence.

"So where are we?" Zandra whispered to Shade. He shrugged his shoulders. "Some old, dusty town in the middle of nowhere?" The two tried not to laugh as they walked further down the street. 

They continued on for a few more minutes until Zandra could see the far-off outline of a building ahead of them. 

"We're almost there," said Cover, looking back towards Zandra. She was now in the back of the group, looking around intently. He slowed down, hoping that she would reach him – and in a moment she was wondering what he wanted to ask her.

"What." She asked quietly, as the group kept on walking. They knew that Cover and her were talking, but tried not to eavesdrop.

"Are you sure you are ready for this?" he asked in almost a whisper.

"Yes," was her immediate reply. She knew she was ready for it, she wanted to see what this oracle would have to say to her. 

"Then you have to go now."

__

Now?

Cover sensed her confusion. "Mayflower told us that you have to get to the location and enter it alone," he explained. Zandra still didn't know what to do. "It said to go through the door ahead of us,"

"That's it?"

"That's it." He pulled out a handgun from his jacket and handed it to her. 

"I already-"

"In case you need more."

Zandra sighed unconsciously. She should have known that they would take extra care that she wouldn't become incapacitated like last time. Take extra measures so that she wouldn't screw up… hell, did they even need the Calling anyway? Zandra took the gun with hesitance, but still accepted it and placed it on her belt hook. 

"Okay," she said decisively, nodding once at Cover. He called out to Wrought, who stopped the rest of the gang before they walked any further. Without anyone speaking, Zandra walked to the door. It seemed like she walked for an eternity, but it was really a little less than a minute. She rested her hand on the door handle before opening it. Looking back, she could see the rest of the group clumped uncomfortably together. Some of them were looking around, maybe aimlessly, maybe looking for an intruder. But Zandra never found out, because an instant later she walked through the door. 

She was in another dark room, but this time it looked more updated, cleaner perhaps. A man stood facing her on the far end of the room, his hands in his wide sleeves. Zandra stood silently before him, not knowing whether he was helpful or harmful.

"No need to worry," he said, bowing slightly, "I will take you to the Oracle."

She stared in wonder as the small man turned from her and walked over to a door on the far wall of the room. She followed slowly as he pulled out a key and unlocked it, revealing a green backyard. He gestured for her to follow, and she walked warily through the portal. 

It was warm; the light was yellow around her in the open yet wooded yard. A woman sat on a swinging bench suspended by an old tree, it looked like a willow to her. Everything was so peaceful – Zandra felt odd with her stiletto heels and leather pants. She felt harsh in this soothing place. Her shoes sank into the dense grass as she walked towards the bench.

"Come here, hon," said the woman, gesturing for her to sit. Zandra approached cautiously.

"Aw, come on now, I won't hurt ya," she continued. The man had now walked back to the door and resumed his standing position. Zandra sat on the edge of the swinging bench, facing the woman. The swing vacillated for a moment, getting used to the additional weight.

"So how are ya," she asked, smiling what looked like a sincere smile. Zandra couldn't help but feel a little more at ease.

"Well," she started, but couldn't find the words.

"I know you're confused," she said, patting her on the leg. Zandra stared down at her leg as if a monster had just clawed her, but the woman paid no attention.

"But why contact me?" she asked. _I hope she isn't referring to Neo's meeting…._

"You've been through a lot, Zandra," she said, "And I think you can do more for people than you think." Zandra's face was blank. "Hun, you just need to get over yourself."

Zandra nodded obediently, her face set. _Get over myself? Am I cocky? Am I not good?_

"I see why you succeed," she said, her eyes staring deep into Zandra's. She suddenly snapped out of it, as if awaking from a bad dream.

"But how are you," she repeated, placing a hand on Zandra's arm. 

"How am I…" Zandra repeated, trying to find the answer, "Good."

The woman furrowed her brows. "No, honey, how _are_ you."

What was this lady asking for? Zandra looked for a better answer. "Frustrated?"

"Right," she said, leaning back, "You are frustrated with your performance, tired of failing?" She looked accusingly at Zandra. "But the things that try the soul will make you a better person. Everyone has to suffer at some point."

Zandra nodded blankly. 

"But let's get to the big one," she said, now with more vitality. 

"I'm confused."

"Yes, you are and by all accounts rightly so," as she said it she pointed a finger at Zandra, emphasizing her words.

"Let me just tell you," she started again, resuming the pointing-of-finger, "that you have to be careful who you trust."

_Be careful who I trust? That can only mean one thing…._

"I don't understand," she said. The woman suddenly gazed out at the green around her.

"Beautiful, isn't it," she asked the sky, "I like to come here to relax when I get the chance." She turned back to Zandra. 

"Let yourself go for a while, you work yourself so hard."

"But if I don't-"

"We all have to work, we all have to run sometimes. We all lose a few," she added with a shake of the head, "But if you don't relax you'll short-circuit yourself." She sighed, and then smiled. "And nobody wants to have that happen to you, now to they?"

_They? Who now?_

"Here," she said, pulling out a piece of candy from a large bag at her side, "Take one. And hun, just relax. You're doing fine,"

"Ah, thanks," Zandra stammered as she took the candy. She glanced over to the door – the man was still standing there, still in the same position he had been in ten minutes before.

"And if you would, send in your crew," she added, pointing again, "I'd like to see them."

"Okay," Zandra replied. _Where would they go…._

"I'll be here," she answered.

Zandra got up slowly, causing the swing to vacillate once more. 

"Oh," she interjected, "one more thing before you leave."

Zandra just stared expectantly.

"Send Stephen in too," she said, "I'd like to meet him."

Zandra was speechless as the man silently escorted her out of the small utopia and back into the old building. He bowed slightly before leaving back through the door they had come through. Zandra was alone again. 

Her cellphone rang. 


	21. Forgetting to Anticipate

Protector of Men Ch 21

Zandra flipped open her phone, expecting something amiss. She was right. 

"Zandra, get the hell out of there," came Kesia's urgent voice. Zandra was already at the door, kicking it open, looking at the scene in front of her. 

"It always happens when you're gone," she said. _It's only been twice now,_ Zandra silently reminded her. Still, it was appalling to see the detritus around her. There were pieces of rubble sprayed across the road in front of her, broken furniture decorated the streets. There was a smashed car in the distance, Zandra couldn't tell if there was anyone there, though. 

"What happened?" she immediately asked. She surveyed the damage around her closely, looking for wounded, dead in the piles of material.

"They came right when you left, there were two agents,"

"_Damn…_"

"Believe me, Zandra, they need you now. They should be ahead of you – Alias needs help."

Zandra closed her phone and sprinted. The scene around her was chaotic – pieces of buildings knocked onto the ground, dust was still falling sporadically down to the ground. But perhaps her initial reaction had been too much. Though the destruction was intense, it was sparse and located in clumps. Whatever happened had happened quickly. _Where to go, where to go…_

She took a right where she saw another pile of rubble. Kesia had said Alias needed her, that probably meant that she was injured, incapacitated…

There she was. Alias lay in a heap on top of a small pile next to an alley, neatly hidden behind a sign. Zandra nicely but fiercely nudged her.

"Alias," she half-whispered, "_Alias_."

There was no answer, but she moved her hand a bit. At least she was conscious. Zandra picked her up and for a moment, pondered where to go. She couldn't reach her cellphone while holding Alias at the same time, so she ran for the phone that she had come in on. At least Alias wasn't heavy. It was relatively easy for her to get to the building that they had come through. And the building was close; it took her less than a minute to get through the door.

As she kicked in the door she heard footsteps scrunching the cobblestones behind her. She tried to pick up her pace as she ran to the room she had been in only minutes before…

There it was. It started ringing, _thank you Kesia!_ She lay Alias on the ground and jammed the phone next to her ear, but nothing happened. Zandra turned around and found herself face to face with another agent. The air was silent; there was no dial tone – he must have broken the hard line. The agent simply stood where he was, obviously knowing that he held all the cards and savoring the moment. What could she do? Alias still lay where Zandra had put her – still incapacitated – she didn't even know what injuries might have befallen her…

"Ms. Richards," Brown said, a smile creeping onto his pallid face. Zandra remembered the guns she had on her. Two on the back, one on the front… _nothing like last time._

"You're not going to shoot me this time," she called back, inching to her right. _Just another inch…_

"No," he stated, folding his arms behind his back, "I'm not."

__

What?

In one swift movement, the agent had her with her arms locked behind her back. She was sure that her arms were going to break if they were twisted any further, but he kept them firm in his grip. Brown moved his face close to hers. Zandra tried to get her face away, but he was too strong – she shuddered knowing that his face was so close to her own.

"I believe I can do much more," he whispered into her ear. Zandra struggled in an attempt to get out of his vice grip, but found herself unable to move. Alias was still on the ground, her hand lolling about as if it were a fish out of water. _I'm sorry,_ Zandra thought. Brown guided her forcefully out of the room, out of the building, and across the way where a black car sat waiting. Waiting for her? He roughly threw her into the backseat as he climbed into the front. Jones sat in the driver's seat, and he too smiled a wan smile as she stared at the both of them. 

"What the _hell_ are you planning on doing?" she asked fiercely. She still felt powerful, knew she still had her guns.

"Oh, but then it wouldn't be a secret, Ms. Richards," said Jones, putting the car into Drive. The two agents looked at each other before leaving the mess of rubble behind them. She knew she wouldn't have much time before they were too far away from the group for her to get back quickly. _Do it!_

Zandra pulled out her gun and aimed at Jones. Brown instantly turned back to her with a concerned look on his face.

"Ms. Richards, I'm _disappointed_. Don't you think we would have thought of that?"

Zandra fired. Nothing happened. The gun simply didn't fire. She pulled out another one and tried that one, but it didn't work either. Brown smiled his stupid smile again.

"Ms. Richards, there's no way you can get out. We hold all the keys except for one… and we think you can tell us where _that_ one is."

Zandra stared in wonder, keeping her face as stony as possible. _They hold all the keys…_ Which probably meant that she couldn't get out of this one very easily. Zandra was having trouble keeping her thoughts straight. With two agents driving her away from her injured, possibly dead crew, she couldn't keep her mind on one thing at a time. Her thoughts kept going back to Alias, laying on the ground, needing her help… was this was the Oracle was talking about? We all have to suffer? _Certainly she would have seen this coming._ Then why didn't she warn her earlier? _I'll be damned if she knew this was going to happen…_

Zandra tried to concentrate. The car would be coded differently – it looked like an old POS from the outside, but she knew that the agents would have special coding for their transportation. Specially locked doors, reinforced steel and glass, it looked to her like there would be no way for her to get out lest she was able to terminate both agents while driving and get out of a crash alive. _Too much_, she'd try and escape when they got out of the car_. Yes, that would be best. _So they drove in silence for ten minutes before Jones broke it with his icy voice.

"Ms. Richards," he warned, "Silence will not _help_ you."

"You want me to make noise?"

Brown laughed a cold laugh.

"I want you to stop _planning_ because it won't _work_. The system has you locked."

_Locked? What the hell did that mean?_ Sounded more like propaganda to her.

"Right. Well as long as you need something from me, I'll be quiet as long as I need."

Brown stopped his smiling and snapped towards her.

"Ms. Richards, we will _use_ you," he repeated, shifting in his chair so that he faced her completely. Zandra suddenly became very uneasy. His hand shot out to throttle her, but she was expecting it, and dodged his hand. She still felt the outside of his palm brushing her cheek. He pulled back his arm slowly, letting out a hiss, and turned back in his chair without another word. Jones pressed his fingers against his ear, revealing to Zandra an earpiece that she had not noticed earlier. They were probably connected to the system that Brown had mentioned earlier… _that seemed to make sense._

Cover was still in the matrix, in the room that Alias had been placed in earlier. Alias was gone, and so was every other crew member from both Purgatory and the Calling, other than himself and Wrought. Wrought looked intensely pained – he had seen one of his crew members killed in front of his eyes, not to mention he had been shot in the arm himself. They had been understaffed before, and now that Pasiphae was gone, he only had one other crew member that he could take into the matrix. Cover had not lost any yet, but Alias was not looking good. Back in Purgatory Trim was desperately trying to remember the med procedures he had been taught months ago. Before Alias came, Trim was going to become the ship's medic – but with Alias injured, there was no one qualified to take care of her. In the meantime, Kesia had been on the line with the Mayflower's medic, trying not only to talk to Cover, but to simultaneously relay the difficult procedures to Trim. Trim was the star of the show – but it had turned out to be a much different role than which he had planned to play. His arms were soaked with Alias' blood as he desperately operated to save her. Cover understood that Kesia was trying to do two things at once, but was still urgent in his messages.

"Where is Zandra?" he asked into the cellphone. Wrought looked around obsessively, expecting another onslaught at any moment. 

Cover walked over to the wall. Wrought wondered what had caused him so much distress – he was breathing deeply, his eyes shut pounded the wall fiercely.

"Okay," he replied, after being quiet for a few seconds. "Is she alive?"

He sighed what Wrought guessed was a breath of relief.

"Okay," he repeated again. "We'll go in after her." Cover closed the phone and looked at Wrought.

"What," he asked expectantly.

"Zandra's been taken by the agents," he answered, "but we can't get her now."

Wrought nodded, and gestured towards his arm. "We are all injured, save you."

Cover nodded too. "We'll need some more crew to help us."

"Will she survive until then?"

"We can only hope."

The phone rang.

"Go upstairs," Cover said, urging him to get out, "they'll be calling you now." Wrought nodded quickly and scampered up into the second room. Cover heard the phone fall on the floor as Wrought disappeared into the real world. The destruction was ended, but something altogether worse had begun.

"We are almost there," said Jones, turning from the cobbled road onto a paved street. Their surroundings were looking more civilized to Zandra, more like a normal suburban setting to her. She kept fidgeting in her seat, not only because of nerves, but hoping that they would not become suspicious of her silence. But in reality, she had let her nerves take over her body as she focused her mind. When they stopped the car, she would only have a few moments before she would be restrained again. She had to formulate a plan before they got her into a building, or wherever they were going to put her. 

In fact, Zandra wasn't sure of what they were planning on doing to her, either. Maybe it had something to do with Neo – it probably did – but what would they make her do about that? Perhaps it would be an interrogation of sorts…

The car jerked to a halt in front of a suspiciously tall skyscraper. 

"Alright Ms. Richards, we have arrived," said Brown before turning to get out of the car. She had a feeling that if he got the chance, he would be unnecessarily rough with her. Jones got out of the car first, and then Brown. Her chance was coming up.


	22. Too Early

Protector Ch 22

It was bright.

Zandra squeezed her eyes shut. It was extremely bright – _too_ bright, and the light hurt her eyes even when she squeezed them shut. She grimaced and tried to bring her hands up over her eyes, but remembered that she was bound; bound with invisible ties that kept her sitting knees to her chin in a corner of the bright room. The walls were icy and hard, but gave her no solace from the blinding light. They too were white and shone like mirrors, amplifying the already painful illumination. 

"Ms. _Richards_," started one of the agents, "Why so disturbed?"

"Light," she simply stated. She tried to squeeze her eyes together closer so that maybe it wouldn't be so white, but it didn't help. Her eyes watered from between her closed lids.

"Oh, but we think you need _more_," one said. Zandra wasn't sure what was going on… everything seemed to mesh together…

"We are still in the _dark_, Ms. Richards…"

"Bright," she whimpered, trying to move her hands up over her eyes. An invisible force kept her hands down at her feet. One of the agents sighed.

"Pitiful."

"Are we ready?"

"Almost," replied Kesia. Purgatory had been abuzz since the incident had started. Though Alias and Shade had been left wounded from their first encounter, Cover was getting ready to go in with Trim. He had called in the Mayflower from a nearby tunnel and asked them to come in as well, and thankfully they replied with a swift 'yes'. It looked like everything was ready to go, and time was of the essence. Zandra had been imprisoned for a day, almost two already; they were worried that she wouldn't be able to take any more. Kesia had found Zandra's whereabouts and they were planning on going in to take her back out. It was an obvious plan, but they were determined to get her back.

"Is the Mayflower ready?"

"They're waiting to jack-in."

"Good," Cover replied, "lets go then."

Shade sat in the med bay, next to Alias' unmoving body. She was still unconscious, still unaware of her injury. It pained him to see her lying so helpless when usually she was so able, so deadly. It had turned on her, and now _she_ was on the brink, on the fence between the fields of life and death. He felt guilty of his own lack of injury – it was only his hand that was bandaged and bruised. He at the same time felt lucky and angry; lucky to be alive, but angry that others had not fared so well. One of them was dead. He wondered what it was like to jack out somebody whose mind had left their body. Shade's hand throbbed with intermittent pain that embarrassed him – as if it was a constant reminder that he was barely injured at all. So he continued to sit with Alias, still sleeping, until either Zandra came back, or Alias woke up.

"Why so timid _now_, Ms. Richards?" asked one of the agents. Zandra was frustrated at her confusion… why was everything so hard to comprehend?

One of the agents came closer to her, temporarily blocking some of the light from her eyes. _Stay there_, she willed.

"You seemed… _feisty_… once we got out of the car," the other said. The car… that incident seemed like ages ago. Though Zandra had tried to escape her captors, she had been unsuccessful. 

Brown had opened the door slowly, and Zandra kicked it to him as hard as she could. The door flew open with a resounding swing, and Brown was sent flying backwards – she had succeeded! She scrambled out of the car, getting ready to run, but her shirt was caught on something… she tugged harder, attempting to free herself, but she wasn't getting anywhere. _Rip, damnit!_ Zandra looked back and her heart fell instantly, knowing that her plan wasn't going to work. Jones had a hand on her shirt, gripping so hard that she couldn't move. Brown quickly got back up and had her in a headlock, making sure that she felt as much pain as possible on the way to her prison.

It had been a fruitless attempt, and now she was stuck in a building that was not really a structure, with agents that were not really people. The agent close to her was silent and stayed there. Zandra couldn't tell what he was doing though, he was only a silhouette against the bright background. 

_He's not speaking, he's analyzing me_, she thought to herself. _Close your mind!_

The agent jerked back as if he had been startled, and Zandra was pleased. She was almost glad to have something that she actually had control of in her dangerous situation. Her mind seemed clearer now. The agent pressed his earpiece against his head, tilting it to one side. The room seemed a little less bright.

"We are not attaining our goal," he said. It sounded like Jones.

"Perhaps she needs some… _coersion_," Brown offered. Zandra didn't like the sound of it. Jones turned around and nodded at Brown, and they both retreated for a while. Zandra was alone in the white room, unable to move and unsure of what was about to happen. 

It was still blindingly bright in the room, but Zandra willed her eyes to stay open as long as she could. _Purgatory_, she thought, _you're still there_. She wondered what they could be doing to her body now, if they were giving her food, injections, holding her down when she moved…

The room became less bright. _That's right, it's not bright. You're in a dark room._

But the problem still stood that she was bound. Zandra was curled up in a corner of the empty room, sitting with her knees hugging her chest, her hands flat against the ground. It was as if an invisible force kept her from moving, because every time she was able to nudge her body one way, something pushed her back into her original position. She pushed as hard as she could against the ground, but the force thrust her back with just as much punch. It was just coding, why was it acting so real? If she could just _alter_ it… find a way to affect the air around her, breathe a way that would change it, do something… but she could think of nothing. The agents were still gone, and Zandra grew worried. 

"Do we have everyone?" asked Cover to the small crowd around him. Directly in front of him stood Colombus, the captain of the Mayflower. Next to her stood her shipmates, Pike and Blithe. Pike, closest to Colombus, was an older man of tall stature, his short gray hair masked by his youthful face. Blithe was a young, almost chubby woman with medium length hair. She looked overly ready for what was coming. On Colombus' other side stood Echo, another young woman, (the one Zandra had met), and Muse, a young black man with braids. Cover was not surprised that Tevy had not come; he was not ready, and it would not be a good idea. Tevy and Zandra shared a connection that would best go unnoticed. He was proud of the company he was in.

Everyone nodded around him. Cover turned to leave the room they had come in through and almost bumped into Trim, still watching him for orders. He had almost forgotten he was there. It was easy to; Trim was always so quiet and had such little presence in a room filled with such imposing people. But Cover needed as much help as he could get, and he did notice a slight _excitement_ in his voice when he was asked to go in…

He flipped open his cellphone and asked Kesia for directions. She told him it was just ahead, indicating that she had taken him as close as she could to the right place. He was glad to have such a good operator on hand. They all walked out quickly and purposefully, knowing that if they weren't careful, they could all be dead in minutes. Never before had anyone tried to fight an agent, except for Zandra. Never before had anyone tried to save an agent's prisoner. But, of course, never before had anyone been imprisoned by an agent. _Everything _was new, and Cover was making it up as he went. He wasn't sure, but knew that no matter what he would try as hard as he could to save her. She was their best shot at the war.

Zandra struggled against the invisible barrier. She was beginning to notice that the harder she pushed, the longer it took for the force to hit back. But when it did, it was hard. She was beginning to formulate a plan. If she could just pool her strength together, and move quickly, maybe she could evade the barrier. But where did it stop? Either it stopped only inches away or else the agents programmed a barrier to stop her and not them. She wasn't sure what they would have chosen, but for the moment picked the second one. She couldn't take any chances. 

The agents were still gone. It was seriously worrying her – and what did they mean by _coersion_? In her frustration she attempted to pull strength from the air around her. She took a deep breath. _Now!_ In an instant she thrust herself off of the ground and on her feet, moving quickly to get moving. She was able to get one foot off the ground, a step…

The force slammed her back into the wall, knocking the wind out of her. _Shit_, she swore, surely the agents would hear that if they were anywhere near the room. The force had thrown her into the corner again, but this time Zandra sat in a heap, with her legs under her. With all of her weight now resting on her legs, they began to hurt.

She tried again, breathing deeply and closing her eyes to clear her mind. _Move quickly, move forcefully. _

The agent began to walk back to the room.

"How many agents have her?" asked Colombus, striding in step with Cover. 

"Two is what Kesia said,"

Colombus shook her head and breathed deeply. "I don't know, Cover…"

"She'll survive."

"I don't doubt that, it's just-"

"I know," he said, "But I believe we can do it."

They continued to walk down the empty sidewalk and soon reached the building they were looking for. They calmly strode in and proceeded to the floor they were supposed to go to. But they didn't see what they expected. In the room that Kesia had told them to go to, Zandra was not.

"Kesia, where is she?"

"She should be a few feet in front of you," replied Kesia with fervor. Her coding was there, _wasn't it?_ It looked like her, _didn't it?_ Kesia grew alarmed as Cover's voice grew more skeptical. 

"Kesia, are you sure?"

"Yes, I was!" she almost shouted into the phone, "I don't know where she is!"

Cover snapped his phone shut. Everyone was looking at him expectantly, wanting to know where she was if she wasn't in the room with them. It was empty, except for a chair in the center of the dark room. And there were no agents.

Zandra was up again, moving faster and harder than before. Two steps, three steps, she was almost to the door… she could feel the force beginning to push her, but she resisted with almost all of her strength. _You can always push more!_ Her movement slowed as she resisted the transparent wall pushing her to the ground. She was still moving, the door was only a few feet away… she began to reach for the handle…

And it opened for her. 

But behind it stood someone she hoped not to see at that moment. He put his hand up, and the force stopped. He smiled, but Zandra didn't return the gesture. 

"Ms. Richards, lovely to see you _up_ again." She stood motionless, waiting for the coming onslaught, the coming force that would certainly knock her back into her corner. It didn't come. He was still smiling. 

"I see your _friends_ have come to join us."

"No," she spoke softly, her face contorted in confusion and fury. Had they come to get her already? Certainly she had hoped that they would try and help her, but so _early?_ Her heart fell – she would be the cause of their downfall now. For a second time.

"Yes," he said, cocking his head to one side, "Brown should be welcoming them _any moment_." He let his hand down again, and the force immediately knocked Zandra back to her corner. She almost screamed in pain, but kept it inside, her eyes welling with feeling. "No," she said to herself aloud, _they need you now._


	23. Rectifying Measures

Protector Ch 23

There was a knock on the door three times. Cover was alarmed, and spun around to see who it was that would be knocking at this door…

"Hello… Captain _Cover_," said Brown, as he opened the door. Cover instantly jumped to his fighting stance. He knew that perhaps he couldn't win this battle, but he also knew that he was the leader. If someone was going to fight, it would be him. And, if it came down to it, he would die to save the rest of them. He could hear everyone behind him getting physically ready, as well. By now everyone knew that it was a trap. Brown looked around the room, as if searching for something. He sneered. Cover guessed that he hadn't found what he was looking for.

"They don't have it," he said, pressing his earpiece against his head. He looked back to Cover. "Well," he started again, "I'm sure we won't have a _problem_,"

Upstairs Zandra was facing the agent again, in her corner. He was standing over her, pressing his earpiece against his head.

"Well," he started, drawling the words as if he were drunk, "unfortunately, we won't be able to carry out both of our orders today."

Zandra was angry – at herself and at the agents. Her blood boiled with frustration and anger as she built herself up for another attack.

"Both projects?" she asked, stalling for more time. _A little longer…_

"Yes, Ms. Richards, you are a _project_ of ours," he said, taking off his sunglasses. He suddenly squatted down on the ground so that he was eye to eye with her. "You _and_ your friend Mr. Witt,"

"He isn't a part of this," she shot back, caught off guard. She hadn't expected Stephen to be involved.

"_Oh_, Ms. Richards, I think he _is_. Mr. Witt stumbled upon the very same discovery that you have, and that poses a _problem_ for us." He got closer to her face, proving to her that in fact the field went all the way through the room. "But you, Ms. Richards, know _much more_ than just astronomy."

She wanted to retch so badly, to give up and cry uncle, but she knew she couldn't. Jones was peering into her, seeing how far he could go before she would break. He had gotten very far indeed. Zandra broke into a sweat and her hands began to shake, causing the field to pulse against her body with intermittent force. She must not give in, she had to get out!

Slowly she began to regain control of herself. Jones was still sitting, still staring into her eyes, but she would not look back. Not give him a clue that she was going to move through the open door behind him and get out… He suddenly pressed his earpiece against his head again, looking away.

Zandra lifted off her feet and jumped over Jones' crouched body in a second. Instantly he was behind her. This time it took even longer for the force to kick in, and right as she was about to leave the doorway it began to push her backwards. _No_, she pleaded, _he's right behind me!_ She grabbed hold of the door to drag herself further out the door. He was gaining on her… her foot was out, her leg was out, and she could now easily pull the rest of her body out of the enchanted room. She was free, but Jones was close behind her. 

She knew she had to act quickly if she was to get out of his range. She looked around her – she was in a narrow hallway with windows on one side, doors on the other. Each end of the hallway dead-ended, meaning she had to take a gamble on one of the many doors. She gave a mental sigh… everything lately seemed to have specially coded doors. _Not much time!_ It was almost easy for her to forget that someone was behind her. But she snapped back to attention. There was a green exit sign next to one of the doors behind her, meaning that she would have to pass the open room again. The prison. She heard Jones speaking into his earpiece, telling Brown that she was out. She could hear his loud footsteps coming towards the door, coming to get her. She was only a foot away from the opening when he burst through the open portal himself.

But he didn't expect that she would be waiting for him. Zandra, lacking a weapon, kicked Jones as hard as she could in the stomach. It worked, sending him to the back wall of the room in a temporary heap. The door slammed itself from the rush of air. Zandra was glad – she had just bought herself extra time to get back to _wherever_ she needed to be. She wasn't sure where to go, but figured that the exit sign was her best bet. She ran over to the door and slammed against it, figuring that it might be locked. It wasn't, and easily flung open to reveal a spiral of steps leading down all the way to the ground level. She must have been on one of the top levels – the hole down the center of the stairs was impressively deep.

Brown pressed his earpiece against his ear, looking down at the ground. What was going on? Only a second before, he had been about to execute them all, but now he was doing nothing, listening to something being told to him. Brown suddenly looked up, and staggered before falling to the ground in a blinding flash. Cover looked back in surprise at Trim, still holding the smoking gun. Everything was quiet for a moment, and then they all relaxed. Colombus gestured for two of her crew to move the lifeless body of an elderly woman to the side of the room. They did it quietly and quickly, for they were used to death now.

Cover pulled out his cellphone.

"Cover, Zandra's in the building next to you," Kesia said immediately.

"Are there any more agents?" Kesia paused before answering.

"There was one earlier, but he disappeared somewhere. Brown should be back soon though."

"I'm going after Zandra, tell Trim and the others where to get out."

"Cover-"

But he had already hung up. The others watched him intently, waiting for the cue to leave, to get out, to get to safety…

"She's free," he started. Everyone's eyes widened. Colombus stepped forward.

"You need me to get them out?"

Cover nodded. "I'll get her, but watch for more agents."

"Cover," she started, "We're not going to just-"

"Go," Cover repeated firmly. Columbus sighed. "It shouldn't take long."

She nodded too, and motioned for the rest of the crews to follow her. "Let's go."

Zandra was taking the steps five at a time; leaping down the flights as fast as she could. But the agent was right behind her – she heard the door open again and heard his heavy footsteps hit the linoleum floor. But she didn't hear him move again. She guessed that he was going to try and shoot her from above. _Stay out of his sight_. There was no way to run down the steps without being seen, so she leapt off the banister of the steps, hoping that he wouldn't see her body falling down the side of the center…

She caught the banister again after falling four floors. He hadn't shot yet, and she knew that he would be growing frustrated. He would probably run after her now, which meant she would not have much time to run further. She was about to go through a door to the sixth floor when it opened in front of her again. 

It was Brown.

He cocked his head to one side, as if registering who it was that now stood in front of him. But Zandra didn't have time. She was weaponless still, and was now fighting against two agents, not one. Before he could pull out his gun, Zandra kicked him out into the hallway – but _she wouldn't have much time_. _He'll be up in just a few seconds_, she shouted at herself, looking desperately for a way out. There was none. Brown started to get up from the carpeted floor, and she could hear Jones flying down the steps behind her. There was only one way.

She took a deep breath and ran towards the glass panes in front of her. _You can make it_, she told herself, aiming for the building standing next to the one she was in. It was a long shot, but there was no time to question anything. She crashed into the glass wall and lifted herself off of the ground, leaving the agents behind her to shoot at her sailing body. They would not follow her across the buildings, because they knew they could just find another host closer to her. They still held all the keys.

Zandra started to fall as she soared through the air. _No!_ She told herself, _not again!_ She put her hands above her head as if she was diving into a pool, in preparation for the incoming wall. She started to fall more. _You're not going to fall!_

She crashed into the building at the sixth floor, and tumbled to the ground in a heap_._ Perhaps it was because she had fallen before, or perhaps it was because of her freedom from the matrix that she was able to make it, Zandra wasn't sure. She didn't have time to theorize at the moment, because right then, she was still fighting for her life.

She understood that she wasn't free yet. Zandra burst out of the room she had crashed into and found herself in a hallway much like the ones she had been in before. As a matter of fact, these buildings looked exactly alike… but this was no time to be observant. She was about to go out the exit doorway when another door, only a few feet away opened.

It was Cover.

"Zandra," he breathed, but she knew what to do. The only thing they could do – continue down the stairs and out of the building. She pulled him into the stairwell and pushed him forward, forcing him to go. "Move!" she shouted. She would have just jumped again, but figured that Cover would not have been able to handle the jump. She was right – he wouldn't. Zandra heard an agent's gun cock from the steps above, and hastened for him to move faster. 

"He's coming down," she told him. Luckily, he knew what she was talking about. With heightened speed, they flew down the stairs toward the first floor. One of the agents was gaining on them, but slowly. Zandra had been on the sixth floor when Cover had met up with her, and they were already approaching the first floor. Yet they bypassed it, knowing that to get away from the agents, they would have to do _more_ than just _run_ to their exit. It would take too long. They ran one more floor. Jones was now only a floor above them. Cover slammed into the door to the car garage and Zandra piled up behind him, eager to get away from the infuriated agent. 

"Wire it," Zandra told him as they began to run through the underground car park, "I'll keep him busy." Cover slowed down for a moment as he nodded, then resumed his pace to find a car. _Please hurry!_

As she turned back to face the door, it flew off of its hinges and to the ground in front of her. Everything suddenly became very quiet. Jones still held out his fisted hand, demonstrating his extreme force as if warning her of impending injury; impending death. He was angry, and didn't say a word as he pulled out his Desert Eagle. He was going to shoot her, going to terminate her existence without another word. _He had been so chatty earlier…_

He aimed carefully at Zandra, and she stood unmoving. She knew she couldn't run, and she had no weapon to fight. All she could do was wait. _Hurry Cover! Don't let this happen again!_

"Only human."

Zandra watched the minuscule explosion as it occurred – as if she were watching it on a television screen. She felt detached, ethereal, like a spirit hovering over it's own body. She heard the car engine start from a ways off, knew that Cover would be coming soon with the car… The bullet was coming towards her head. She knew he would aim to kill. She tried to move to the right, but she was going so slowly, it was as if she was in water and couldn't get anything to push off of. She was moving slower than the bullet was – at this speed she knew that she would be hit. The agent wore a smug smile as he continued to hold his gun at eye level. _Hurry!_ She could hear the car engine slowly approaching behind her, knew that Cover was not far off. But not close enough to help her if she couldn't get out of the way. _Move faster!_ She pushed herself harder and was able to move a little quicker as the little sentinel of death grew closer to her. She had only a few inches before impact, three, two…

It passed her, but just barely. She felt the compressed air hit her face as it whizzed past and hit a car behind her. A car alarm started, filling the near empty garage with echoing noise. Zandra could see the immediate reaction upon the agent's face: infuriation, frustration, disbelief. Cover was screeching to a halt beside her, and she jumped into the car before the agent could get to her. Cover handed her a gun and she shot a few rounds at the angry machine as they sped off. 


	24. Nightmares

Protector of Men Ch 24

"No," Zandra said, "I'm glad you didn't go in."

Stephen made a face at the screen. "I could have helped."

"No," she repeated, "you wouldn't have been able to."

Stephen made another face, and Zandra rolled her eyes.

"Look Stephen," she started, leaning towards the screen, "The agent wanted you too, and I doubt you would have been able to get out of it."

Zandra sat back in Kesia's operating chair, and Stephen was silent for a moment.

"He knew about my project, and he wanted you back," she continued, "you _don't_ want to be held by them."

Stephen nodded thoughtfully, looking off into the distance.

"Well, I'm supposed to start my agent training soon."

Zandra perked up instantly. "Oh."

"Yeah, I'm a little worried about it."

"It's not fun, I'll tell you that."

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically. Zandra gave him an evil smile. 

"Alex, they said you were amazing out there," he said, now more serious. Zandra had to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

"Well if I were amazing, don't you think I wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place?"

"Alex, no one could have helped that,"

"No one could have helped _anything_," she stated angrily. Without her help, Alias had been crippled. She hadn't even been awake for over an hour yet, but everyone knew that she wouldn't be able to use her legs again. Everyone knew except for her. And if Zandra could have been faster, could have evaded the agent, maybe it wouldn't have ended up like that. But Zandra _couldn't_; she failed. Stephen was quiet for a moment.

"So what are you guys going to do for now?"

_Good question_. Zandra was almost glad to get off of the subject, though she felt guilty for it. 

"I think we'll be recruiting another shipmate," she replied. _Bad answer,_ because she was immediately reminded of the reason for the new recruit: Alias' inability to work in the matrix. Because of the last week, Purgatory was left severely undermanned. But at the same time, she looked forward to having someone on the ship that was less experienced than she. It was a strange thought, but she still wanted to be able to explain things to someone, feel like she wasn't the most unknowledgeable one on board. 

"Okay, we're not doing much either." Stephen felt that it was a good time to wrap up their conversation; Zandra clearly wasn't in the mood for talking. "Well," he said with a stretch, "Colombus wants me off."

Zandra caught his idea, and said a quick but meaningful goodbye. "Take care of yourself, Alex," he told her, and she told him the same. 

"Kesia, I'm off," she called into the mess room. Seconds later Kesia emerged with a smile.

"Have a nice talk?"

"Yeah," Zandra replied facetiously, "nice." Kesia was quietly polite as Zandra gave her the headset and controls, and didn't say anything as Zandra walked silently back into her room. Maybe sleep was the answer – it had only been ten hours since she had jacked back out of the matrix and she still felt weary. 

She fell onto her bed with a thump, and pain shot up her still healing back. It was doing well, but she still felt the dull pain every now and then. She was just thankful that it didn't affect her in the matrix. Zandra sighed and didn't move to get more comfortable. She just lay there on her stomach, hoping that sleep would take her away to a more peaceful place, somewhere where her life wasn't in danger, where she could relax for once. Somewhere warm where there wasn't a constant buzzing of machinery in the background. It took her almost a half-hour, but finally she was able to drift into slumber. 

_She couldn't believe she was skipping Binn's class to go see these quacks… she was missing _BioPhysics_, of all things… but it was definitely uncanny how the two knew exactly what she had been pondering over the past few months… And after all, she hadn't missed any classes of Binn's yet, so maybe it was okay to miss just one. Hopefully._

She rapped on the door of the old clubhouse. A sign on the door said "Living Dreams: A Club You're Already In" in faded red lettering. It looked pretty shady to her, but they told her to be there, and there she was. After all, they did seem pretty informed when they met her at the physics meeting.

The gangly younger boy answered the door. He ushered her in without a word, and locked the door several times before leading her into another room. The whole building smelled of dust and the walls were painted with cobwebs. But the boy looked immaculately clean, which was a little surprising. He didn't seem to fit in to his surroundings. The woman, dressed just as strangely as before, was sitting at a couch in the room. She gestured for Zandra to sit. 

"Hello, Alex," said the woman, "I am Alias. Come sit,"

She approached a chair warily, but sat in it nonetheless. "You wanted to talk about my project?" The boy sat down too, next to the woman – Alias.

"Yes," she answered, "You are expanding on the universal hologram theory?"

"Yes.,"

"Hmmph." She paused, then looked outwards, towards a small window. "What if it the universe was more than just a hologram?"

"Then what_?"_

"A lie." Zandra didn't say anything. "Do you think it is possible that the hologram theory is true?"

Zandra paused before answering. She had_ been thinking a lot lately…_

"Yes, it does seem to be a valid theory."

"What if it was more than a theory?"

"What could be more than a theory?" she asked impatiently. Zandra was quickly growing tired of the woman's questions. What was she trying to prove, and why was she being so mysterious about it? __

"What if there was something projecting the hologram to make us think the world around us is real?"

"Something controlling how we perceive our universe?"

The woman nodded. Zandra sighed before thinking aloud.

"I supposed it is a possibility," she mused, "There have been instances of the hologram's mutability factor changing at times."

"Exactly," the woman said, "It looks like something changes it every now and then?"

Zandra nodded slowly, in thought.

"It's as if the information from the universe is ebbing and flowing with time," Zandra continued, halfway to herself.

"Like a matrix of information," she asked, smiling wryly. Zandra looked at her closely, but then nodded.

"Hey Will, it's me," she said into the phone. She was in her dorm room, dangling upside down from her bunk on the telephone with her older brother, William. He had just come home from work, and was happy to hear from her.

"Hey Al," he said back, his voice full of love. "How's the project going?"

Zandra sighed with a laugh, "It's totally crazy."

"Really? I hear it's doing well."

"It is," she replied factually, "It's just there are so many people with questions…"

"I bet," he replied. "Any nonbelievers?"

"A few, but they know that I'll argue until I'm blue in the face."

William laughed. "It's been a while since we've talked," he remarked. 

"Yeah."

"I hope we'll get to talk more often now that I'm being promoted," 

"You got it?"

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly. Zandra squealed with delight. "That's great!"

"I know," he said, "I'll get more time off, so maybe I'll come visit you at school."

Zandra smiled. "That'd be really great. Have you told mom and dad yet?"

"Not yet, you're the first to know." Zandra cooed with played surprise. "But don't tell them!" he added with fervor.

"I won't, I won't," she assured him with a laugh, "they'll be really happy for you."

"Anyways," he started, wishing to change the stagnant subject, "anything new going on?"

"Nope," Zandra sighed, twisting onto her stomach on her bed.

"No new boyfriends I need to check up on?"

Zandra laughed. "No, no boyfriends."

Now William laughed, too. "Now when are you and Stephen going to admit you are madly in love with each other? I think it's been long enough that you two have been skirting the subject…"

"Now, now Will, you know we're just friends," she started warningly, but laughed. __

"Oh, right, my bad…" he continued, still playing up the joke. Zandra heard a click on the phone, but paid no attention to it. It probably meant that someone was trying to get in on his line.

"Anything else going on for you?"

"Hmmm," he pondered, "Not much. Just starting the new job next week."

Zandra heard another click, but again didn't pay any attention. "That's really great, Will, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks."

They were both quiet, both appreciating the time they got to talk together. So often in those days did siblings part ways after leaving the home. But Alex and Will had tried hard to stay together, to keep the strong bond that they had built since early childhood.

"Well, I'd better go study," Zandra said, sitting up in bed.

"Okay then, Al, keep me posted. See you later."

"Bye."

But she didn't see him later.

Zandra woke up with tears streaming down her face. Her palms were sweaty and she felt shaken. She rubbed her streaked face as she got up to check the clock – it had only been an hour since she went back to bed. Her dreams hadn't been especially poignant, but lately her nights had been haunted by the vivid memories of her old life. Zandra got her clothes together to go get a shower. She needed to clear her mind, to try and forget her family. _William._ It wasn't that she regretted leaving, it was just… _it was so much to let go of_. Her eyes began to well up again as she remembered him – his humor, his friendliness, his protective nature towards her. She was always his baby sister - until she had disappeared. Zandra wiped off the fresh tears with her towel before stepping into the shower. It was cold, and her breath instantly quickened as she got used to the low temperature of the falling water. Zandra tried to think of other things as she took her shower, _think of Zion, think of the new recruit…_

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around her, yearning for warmth. She remembered not to dry her hair, as it was still too short to need any towel drying. At least it was a _little_ longer. She hastily put on her clothes again and wrapped the towel around her like a cape, still cold from the freezing shower. At least for now she had forgotten about her dream. Quietly she walked back into the hall, hoping that perhaps the mess room would offer her warmth.


	25. New Additions

Protector of Men Ch 25

Shade was sitting in the mess room as she was about to walk in. Zandra made no move to say hello, but got out a bowl and spork to get something to eat. Maybe eating would make her feel better. Or pass the time. Shade looked up as she moved to sit down across from him.

"Hey, it's superwoman," he mused. Zandra was confused. _I know they thought I was good… but Superwoman?_

Shade detected her confusion, and gestured towards his back. "Cape?"

"Oh," she realized, and sat down. She felt a little silly, but didn't mention anything more about it. 

"Aw, damn," he suddenly voiced. Zandra looked up from her bowl and saw Shade covered in slop. 

"What happened?"

He laughed. "I can't eat with my left hand," he managed, trying fruitlessly to wipe off the food from his shirt and face. Zandra noticed a thick bandage on his right hand, probably the reason why he was eating with his left. She had to smile.

"I'll get you my towel," she offered, taking it off her shoulders and getting up.

"No, nono," he said, but didn't refuse when she crouched down to help clean him up. Clearly he was having a hard time doing much of anything with his injury. She was silent as she mopped up his chest, his face, trying not to get the mess anywhere it already wasn't. 

"Thanks," he said after she was done. Zandra went back and sat down, ready to resume her bowl.

"So why are you eating so late?" she asked, her mouth full of food.

"Oh, I just got off watching Alias," he replied. They both became very quiet. 

"Oh." They both looked down, trying not to think about Alias' new condition. But it was unavoidable, and they still felt uncomfortable. Zandra finished her food without much further conversation and went back to the main deck. Cover was there, speaking with Trim; they both stopped talking when they saw her approach.

"We're going to go in on Tuesday," said Trim, speaking to Zandra. Cover looked at him intently. Tuesday, that meant three days away… _Good_, she thought, _it'll give me time to relax for a while…_

"But Zandra, we can't have something like that happening again," said Cover. Zandra looked at him, wondering what he meant.

"It will only be Trim and I," he continued, "It will not require much to get the recruit,"

_Oh, so that's what he was talking about_. Zandra at the same time felt dissappointed and relieved; she wouldn't be able to help them again, but she would be able to rest and heal. And maybe let her hair grow some more.

"Okay," she replied, "What will the rest of us do?"

"You'll need to watch Alias and Shade for the time being,"

Zandra nodded, and they parted ways. So she wouldn't be doing much for a while. 

A week came and went; the new recruit came and became adjusted. Her name was Kemp, and she was quite a character. Her first day in, she had raised quite a ruckus in the ship, but calmed down once Cover talked to her. She was a bit loud-mouthed for Zandra, but she was a new addition, and help was definitely needed. Other than that, she was a regular person. Someone that she would eventually be able to talk to. But for now, someone she could teach. And teach her she did – Zandra would brief her on training exercises, and while she was jacked in, Zandra would watch the matrix code on Kesia's computer. 

"Why do you watch it for so long?" Kesia would ask, and Zandra's reply would be that she needed to learn the code. But inside a fire burned.

She wanted to know all of the code. She wanted to be able to tell what was going on in the matrix by just looking at the screen, by just a glance. She wanted to be able to anticipate each movement of the matrix – so that she could not only know what was going on, but how she could get around it. It had been bothering her for a while – Zandra knew that she could change herself in the matrix, but not the things around her. She could run faster, hit harder, jump higher, but she couldn't make anything around her change. And she wanted to know how to manipulate it. 

But for now, all she could do was learn. And while Kemp was learning the basics of training, Zandra learned the basics of the coding. It was a lot for both of them, but they each handled the new information in their own ways. 

And during the week Alias woke up. It was a tough day for all of them when she realized that she was paralyzed; that she would never walk again. But she took it like a trooper – and by the third day since she had awoken, she was already in a makeshift wheelchair she had made herself. Everyone knew that she would be dying inside, asking god why she had been crippled, but she didn't make any gesture of it to anyone. The only difference anyone could have seen was an overall brightening of her outlook, perhaps an overdone attempt at seeming cheerful in the face of her troubles. When she came into a room, she would greet everyone with a smile, but everyone else found it hard to be so happy. Alias was the only one that couldn't see through her own transparent façade of cheer, into the despairing fighter underneath. But she tried to stay with it, offered to help everyone with things from machine repair to Kemp's training. Most times she was refused though, and was often found making herself busy fixing something small, or taking things apart that she would later put back together. Zandra felt especially strange around her now.

Meanwhile Zandra and Shade's own injuries were healing well. Shade had changed the dressing on his hand so that he could eat and work better, and Zandra's back didn't hurt her so much anymore. Now she was only glad that it hadn't hit one of her spinal plugs. That could have been messy. And as her overall health improved, so did her desire to get back into the matrix. She wanted to see Neo again, but remembered that the Oracle still wanted to see her crew. And he _had_ told her to let on that everything was okay, that she didn't know he even existed… so she would have to mention it to Cover.

"Cover, back when I went to see the Oracle-"

"She told you to unplug more people."

"Yes," she replied slowly…

"But…"

"But she also said she wanted to see the crew."

Cover nodded once, his lips thinning. 

"Last time we saw her…"

"I know," Zandra replied hastily, "But that was because I was there. Maybe if you went alone."

He nodded again. "And this informant told you she would contact us?"

"Yes," she added quickly again, "He said we should see her."

Cover nodded for a third time. 

"Tomorrow then," he said, "Trim, Shade, and I will go."

"She said she wanted Stephen too."

"He has to go another time."

Zandra nodded and went to the main deck. Kesia was there, staring at the falling code of green again. Zandra asked if she could speak with Tevy one more time, and Kesia agreed. She contacted Colombus and requested for him. He came in a few seconds, a grin already plastered on his face. 

"It's been a while," he said, settling down in his seat. 

"Yeah, like a week or something?"

"And a day," he replied. Zandra made a face of amazement. 

"We really need to get back to Zion." 

"I know, I want my feet on some ground."

"Yeah, and we can relax together."

Zandra smiled. "That'd be awesome, if it'll ever happen."

"I hope so," he replied, "I already asked Colombus if we can go back in at the same time."

"That was nice," she remarked, a little surprised at his caring measure. Stephen shrugged.

"I haven't gotten to actually talk with you since back then."

Zandra was reminded of her dream. Her old home.

"Yeah," she breathed, "maybe we'll get to see each other."

Stephen smiled sincerely.


	26. Propaganda

Protector of Men Ch 26

They came back from the Oracle a little dazed. Luckily, or perhaps just as they expected, they hadn't been traced by any agents. They simply went in, saw the woman, and went out. But they went out a little slower than they went in; they were carrying quite a load of information between them.

Cover was on the verge of collapsing from an overabundance of epiphanies. The Oracle had told him so much – that he would lead so much – that he was almost overloaded. He felt better, no doubt, but felt more responsibility had been laid on him than he ever imagined he could carry. 

"She is the One, Cover," she had told him, "She's going to end this war."

"You will lead them to victory," she had told him, "You can show them the way."

"Don't worry about not knowing the path," she had assured him. She told him that it would be a tough battle, but that he would lead them well. He had to admit that it definitely made him feel better about the way he had been handling things. Before he saw her, he felt lost; felt like he wasn't sure that what he was doing was the right thing to be doing. _Nothing _that Zandra presented had ever been done before. But the Oracle told him that everything would be alright. She told him he was doing a good job, and he liked that. The Oracle would be on his good list.

Shade was busy trying to decipher what the lady had told him. 

"You have to make a decision," she told him, "But your choice will make you despair." He didn't like the answer, and asked why he had to make the choice in the first place. She was taken aback, and Shade was a little confused… 

"I know you don't want to make a choice," she said warmly, "But you will before you even realize it." Shade's face was still dark. He was still stuck on 'despair', and the Oracle realized it.

"You will despair only until you realize why you made your choice," she told him, patting him on the arm, "Hun, we all make mistakes." But he was still confused, and was silent even back on the ship, still trying to figure out what exactly the Oracle meant. 

Trim didn't have anything to be happy about. He had been told things that were of a much different tone than the others. She had been more mysterious with him. 

"Kiddo, you're too young to know what you think," she told him after asking him a few questions. Trim was dumbfounded, and a little offended. 

"Now, now," she assured him, "I don't mean it _that _way."

"I just mean that you can't take everything you feel as the _truth_."

He asked her why.

"Because, Trim, sometimes feelings betray you. And kiddo, you're getting to the point where your feelings won't make a lot of _sense_. Just try to remember what you're here to do, and you should feel _right as rain_." 

And he left feeling not only thoroughly confused, but depressed. Nothing she had told him made him feel better at all. He just hoped that everyone else had gotten an equally cryptic and noncommittal message. 

Alias had put up enough of a fight, but wasn't allowed to go on the trip. Cover, though he had tried to skirt the issue enough, had to finally tell her that it would be impossible for her to function, even in the Matrix. Maybe if her legs had been broken would she be able to run, but because her mind couldn't get impulses all the way down to her legs, she wouldn't be able to move in either world. Alias wouldn't be free anywhere. It was the first time since the incident that anyone had seen her true personality come back on – the way she argued to be able to contribute. Though they were glad to see her normal self again, they were also disappointed that they had to refuse her. So during the day, Alias had followed Zandra and Kemp around the ship. Together they searched for things to do, to fix, to read. But luckily the boys didn't take much time on their trip to the Oracle, and came back in only a few hours. 

"We're going back to Zion," Cover told Zandra in the mess hall, "I think we all need to take a breather." Zandra agreed. So they all got ready for the trip back, all quietly. Each person was thinking about what had happened in the past few days… so much mysteriousness, so much anger and passion that had come out of each of them that they felt they needed to recoup from the week. And that was probably why Cover was sending them into Zion. And it probably helped that the Mayflower had chosen the same week to go back to the city, as well. So it would end up as Stephen had planned. 


	27. Bonding

Protector of Men Ch 27

Zion was just as amazing as when Zandra had seen it the first time. It's blinding light compared to the dark tunnels, it's huge open ship bay, the sheer amount of people in the city; it was just as awe-inspiring as before.

"Holy shit," Kemp had stated factually, "This is a _city_?"

Zandra gave Cover a weary look that he did not return. Kemp was definitely getting on her nerves, but she was somewhat settled by the fact that in Zion, she could at least be with other people.

"_Damn_," she continued as they settled down on the concrete, "this is the _shit_."

_Is she always going to be this foul mouthed?_ Zandra wondered quietly…

"We're down," Kesia said into her headpiece. She took it off slowly and got up. 

"Let's go," Cover said, walking over to the doors. They opened with a loud creak.

"Stephen!" she exclaimed, surprised. There stood Tevy, already dressed in Zion's clothing, and welcoming them back to their home. He offered to take Zandra's things, (Which she politely allowed him to,) and asked if she wanted to join him in getting something to eat.

"You know where to get something?" she asked, excited about the proposal of getting some food other than the slop that she was getting so used to eating. 

"Oh," he replied, rubbing his hands together nervously, "I went ahead and asked Colombus if there was anywhere we could sit and eat, you know…"

"Oh," she said, "thanks."

And they walked over to the restaurant, casually located in the center of the ship bay. It was a circular building, only two floors tall, with high tables and chairs. A young man came and asked them what they wanted to order, and neither of them quite knew.

"What's good?" Zandra asked. Stephen shrugged, then smiled.

"The vegetable bread is our special," the young man suggested, shifting on his feet. He kept looking from Tevy to Zandra, as if he didn't know who to talk to. Zandra, upon looking the boy over, noticed that he had no plugs on him, and felt an odd pang of jealousy. Somehow, she had the idea that he was freer than she without the metal holes. She unconsciously began to trace the metal plug on her arm with her finger, going in ravenous circles that she didn't notice.

"That'll work," said Stephen, nodding at Zandra. Bread was good enough for the both of them."Okay, that'll be up in about ten minutes," the boy said, and walked off so quickly that Zandra was startled and had to stop herself from laughing. 

"So," Stephen started, settling down in his chair, "The guys went to see this _oracle_?"

Zandra nodded. "Yeah, they haven't said anything about it though."

"What is she supposed to _tell_ you?"

Zandra paused. _Oh hell_, she thought, _why not tell him…_

"The future, is what she at least _insinuated_ to me," she answered. Stephen looked a little impressed.

"Do you think she was right?"

"I think, I'm not sure though."

"And you said she wants me?"

Zandra nodded. "Yeah," she answered.

"Colombus asked me about it the other day," he said, leaning forward, "she talked to Cover and she wants me to go."

Zandra paused again. "Okay," _But wait…_ "But wait," she suddenly said, "Are you sure?"

Stephen frowned. "Why?"

"The agents," she explained.

Stephen shook his head, "I'll have cover."

"Cover?"

Stephen laughed. _Why is he laughing_? "No, I mean I'll have people _with_ me."

"Oh," she said disjointedly. 

"What?" Stephen asked, putting his hand on hers under the table. Zandra was a little surprised, but didn't move her hand. _Since when had he been so caring…_

"It was just strange," she said, staring at the floor. 

"The oracle?"

"Yeah."

"What did she say?"

"She just said she wanted to see you, called you Stephen."

He made no movement, expecting more to her explanation - but none came. He gave her a confused look.

"I didn't mention you."

Stephen replaced his hand on his own leg and leaned back in his chair, digesting the thought.

"Well," he said slowly, "I guess that's what oracles do."

Zandra made a face and nodded at the ground again. The boy came back with their bread, and set it on their table before quickly leaving again. They began to eat, gratefully and voraciously, both insanely glad that they were actually eating solid food. Zandra was just amazed at how good it tasted. _Taste_; she had honestly worried that there was no taste in the real world. But there was. Her mouth watered with each anticipatory bite, and she relished the feeling. After a few minutes of silence, Stephen piped up again.

"So, they're making me do more practice while we're here."

"Really?" Zandra replied, "I didn't think you could do that."

"Oh," he said, waving a hand in the air, "It's just a construct. They just think I need more experience."

Zandra nodded. "Oh."

_Speaking of which_, she should probably go see Emory again, now that she had seen Neo. Maybe she'd go while Stephen was training, she would go see him. 

"You should have seen my agent training," he said with a laugh. Zandra perked up.

"Oh really?"

"Oh my god, Alex, it was _abysmal_."

Zandra snorted. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

He made a face. "Alex, our ideas of bad are _very_ different."

"Oh _really_?" She mentally sighed, _not this again…_

"Yeah, I got hit after thirty seconds and they thought I did _good_."

Zandra took a moment before answering. "Well, everyone has to start out somewhere," she offered. Stephen still was unbelieving.

"Not everyone can terminate an agent, Alex."

"I know, okay?" She was a little angry, a little embarrassed that he kept on bringing up that subject every time they talked. _So what_, she killed an agent. _Okay, three_. But to her, it wasn't a big deal. To her, she could have done better. _You can always push more…_

"I don't think you understand, Alex," he repeated.

"I understand, okay Stephen?" she barked. Zandra looked around – a few eyes were on them. Her face turned red, and she sat down further in her chair. 

"_Allright_, you do," he allowed, "But no one's gone as far before."

Zandra nodded, knowing that arguing would get her nowhere. Stephen sighed.

"All I'm trying to do is tell you that you're doing well. Hell, you're doing the best _anyone's_ done."

She didn't say anything. Stephen leaned forward in his chair, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

"You're the same person, Alex, you just amaze me." Zandra smiled.

A woman approached their table - both Stephen and Zandra watched her as she walked towards them with trembling servility.

"I'm sorry," she managed, her eyes wide, "But I couldn't help overhearing your conversation."

Zandra waited a second before realizing that the woman was talking to her. "Oh," she stammered, "That's okay…"

"You're Zandra?" she asked. Zandra was confused. _I'm always confused_, she told herself.

"Yeah…" she replied, trying to draw more out of the woman.

"Thank you… for all that you've done," she said, and placed a pile of what looked like rubbish on their table. She nodded once at Zandra, then stumbled away and out of the small restaurant. Both Zandra and Steven were speechless.

"What was that?" she asked, still watching the place where the woman had left. "Thanks for _what_?"

"_Geez_," Stephen breathed, "Look what she gave us."

Zandra took a closer look at the pile and picked up a piece of what looked like paper. On it were numbers, one note read ten, another fifty… the woman had given them _money._

"Why would she give us _this_?" Zandra asked, still confused.

"I guess she heard us talking?"

"Great," she breathed, still inspecting the notes. "Well, I guess this will help us pay?"

Stephen looked up. "Damn, I hadn't even thought about that."

Zandra almost laughed. "Well, I guess we don't have to think about it anyway." With that, she placed a ten and a fifty on the table and got out of her tall chair. Stephen followed suit, but much slower. It seemed he was in a daze. Zandra led him out quickly, trying not to attract any more attention. Still, it seemed to her like eyes were following them out of the restaurant. 

Behind them, the young waiter gazed in amazement at the pile of money on the table. He thought _everyone_ knew that it was a free restaurant, kept in business by the council for crews. Yet, he wouldn't refuse money when it stared him in the face. He quietly stuffed it in his pocket and picked up the dirty plates with a small smile on his face. 

"Wow, I guess the words out," Stephen said as they continued to walk.

"Guess so," she replied darkly. Stephen was getting tired of her anger. Maybe she _had _changed after all. "Well," he said, after a minute, "I guess I should get started on my practicing."

Zandra stopped walking. So he was going to leave her. _But that was fine_, she actually wanted to be alone for a while. Or at least that was what she'd tell herself. "Okay," she said quietly, "I guess I'll go find Emory then."

Stephen wasn't sure who Emory was, but didn't ask. He figured that for now, she needed to be left alone to figure things out for herself. He waved goodbye and walked over to one of the elevators nearby, waving again as the doors closed. So she was alone again, in a place with too many people.


	28. Vacation

Protector of Men Ch 28

Zandra knocked on his door three times. She heard Emory get up and shuffle towards the locked portal. It was a miracle that she had even found his room – she had to ask four people before she found someone that even knew Emory in the first place. But she was there, and he was coming. 

"Zandra," he said as he opened the door. He ushered her inside quickly, and locked the door before looking at her. He smiled, as if approving her, and gestured for her to sit in one of two rocking chairs. She did, and it was surprisingly comfortable. Emory sat in one himself.

"So you have spoken with him?" he asked, his hands clasped in his lap. Zandra nodded.

"What did he have to say to you?"

"Well," she started slowly, "a lot of things." Emory continued to gaze at her, silently telling her to continue. Zandra started speaking, at first jerked by his strange silence.

"He told me we aren't the first Zion," she offered, becoming a little uncomfortable.

Emory nodded jerkily, looking towards the ground. "What else did he say?" still looking down.

Zandra paused. "Well," she started again, "He said that ah," she paused again, trying to recollect exactly what he had said, "ah, we shouldn't tell anyone the truth."

Emory nodded again.

"And," she added, the information coming back to her, "That an oracle would contact us."

"Has she?"

"Yes, I went to go see her, as well as my crew."

"What did she say?"

"That I could save things, that I didn't know my potential?" She framed it as more of a question than a statement, hoping that she wouldn't come off sounding show-offish. He just nodded again several times. 

"What did she say to them?"

"I don't know, they didn't say anything about it."

"I would expect that," he replied, looking at her. They were both quiet.

"What do I do now?"

Emory sighed. "I would suggest going back to _him_ for the answer to that."

"But where will I find him?"

He replied slowly. "He will find you if you search for him." Emory stared into the darkness of his room, as if trying to recollect something.

"Is that how you found him?" Zandra asked, Emory immediately snapping out of his zone.

"Yes, he contacted me," he replied. "But now is not the time for that," he added, getting out of his seat. "I should be getting on with my business."

Zandra got out of her own seat and let herself be ushered to the door. _This man was definitely strange_, she thought to herself again. _Deja-vu…_

And as quickly as she came in, she was suddenly thrust out of the room again. Alone again. She almost wished that she could have stayed in the room with him, just to have someone to talk to. But there was someone to take his place. Stephen was laying in a pile against the banister of the hallway, facing the now opened door – facing Zandra. He wore a look of mischief and warmness.

"How did you get here?" she asked, looking to the left and right. The hallway seemed to be abandoned. Stephen pulled himself up to his feet, still smiling strangely.

"Oh, I asked around," he answered.

"Thanks," she replied, "I don't know where I would've gone – last time Shade let me stay in his room-" _Damn,_ she just remembered that she hadn't asked Shade for a room again. _Where am I going to stay?_

Stephen read her mind. "Oh, you can room with me," he said casually, "I have extra space." Zandra nodded, put on a smile for him. Somehow he seemed different.

"Well I don't know about you," he started in a joking voice, "But I'm exhausted."

Zandra looked at him and shook her head. He shrugged his shoulders, "_What_?" he asked, mocking a truly serious tone. At least he was still the same joker that he used to be. They chatted normally as he led her down a few floors to his room, and ushered her in.

"Want anything more to eat?" he asked, walking over to what looked like a kitchen. The room – or rather apartment, was quite small, but homey. Zandra noticed what looked like art on the walls, comfortable furniture, it actually looked like a pretty regular home. Zandra had to remind herself that _regular_ wasn't _real_ anymore.

"Anything?" he repeated, holding up a jug, "I've got juice?" Zandra waved her hand slowly and nodded, "Sure," she figured. 

He poured her a glass and put it down on a small table in the middle of what Zandra guessed was the living room. Both of them sat down across from each other. Zandra, not knowing what to say, began to drink. It was a strange taste, and she had to keep herself from spitting it back out. She took a deep breath and gulped it down. 

"What kind of juice is this?" she asked, eyeing her glass suspiciously. Stephen smiled. 

"Actually," he mused, "I'm not quite sure _what _it is." Zandra playfully smacked him on the arm, and he moaned as if she had just punched him. They both laughed.

"I really don't know," he said more seriously, "But I heard it was good, so I got it."

"Hmm," Zandra replied, looking at her glass again. It wasn't that bad, she figured, and drank some more. But it did require getting used to. 

"So," he started, obviously changing the subject, "I hear you have a new crewmember?"

Zandra sighed with obvious exasperation. "Yes," she replied, "Kemp."

Stephen laughed. "I take it you're not fond of her?"

"It's not that I'm not _fond_ of her."

"Oh come on, let it out."

"She's just a little… loud-mouthed for me."

"Allright, I guess that's good enough an answer for me," he said, swallowing the last of his drink. Zandra took another less timid sip. For a second he sat just looking at Zandra, as if she were saying something important. But she wasn't. A second later he yawned, and stretched his arms in display of fatigue.

"Oh, man am I tired," he said, getting up from his chair. "Do you want the bed?"

Zandra shook her head. "No, if there's only one, you take it."

Stephen shook his head too. "If you don't, then I'm sleeping on a couch, too."

"Fine," she answered, "We'll both be on couches." 


	29. Common Discourtesy

Protector of Men Ch 29

Zandra woke up to the strange smell of something burning. She was still on the couch – it was surprisingly comfortable even though her feet dangled off the sides during the night. Zandra figured that everything in Zion was going to be surprisingly comfortable after Purgatory…

She opened her eyes a crack, as if testing the waters. She opened them wider, and saw Stephen meddling around in what she remembered as the kitchen. He seemed hard at work.

"What?" she asked, not realizing that no question had been posed. Stephen turned back towards her.

"Hey, sleepy," he called, "Breakfast!" After a few seconds, he came over to her and presented her with what looked a little like food. Zandra smiled a crooked sleepy smile. Her night had definitely been satisfying – a comfortable resting spot, quiet room, and no dreams. She was especially glad to have a dreamless night. Stephen was sitting on the ground next to the couch, offering her some of his food.

"Why'd you make breakfast for me?" she asked, crumpling her short hair, remembering belatedly that there wasn't much to crumple. At least it looked more feminine now that it had been a few weeks. She pushed herself up on the couch. Meanwhile Stephen continued to smile. 

"I didn't want to wake you up," he replied, as if it were the most natural answer in the world. Zandra sighed.

"No, you know you didn't have to do that," she answered, blinking sleep out of her eyes.

"I know," he answered sweetly, "I just wanted to."

"Oh," she said, figuring that she might as well take him up on his offer - as long as he was being so uncommonly gentlemanly. The food was good, and they chatted comfortably as they ate. 

"What time is it?" she suddenly asked.

"Hmm," Stephen wondered, "I'm not sure… oh well." He threw his hands up. "I don't think it matters here."

Zandra nodded thoughtfully. "I guess not." And they continued to talk.

"So who is this _Emory_ guy?" he asked, after a second of silence. Clearly it had been on his mind.

"Oh, he's just a guy that told me about Neo."

"Neo?"

"The informant."

"Oh," he replied, nodding slowly, "Nothing I need to worry about?"

Zandra looked at him cluelessly, but then it hit her. _Ooh!_ She laughed, "No, nothing that you need worry about."

"_Phew_," he answered, wiping a trickle of imaginary sweat from his brow, "I was scared there." Both of them laughed, a little strangely. Stephen was laughing out of gratefulness, Zandra out of confusion. Nevertheless they were both laughing, and that was a good sign. 

"So what do we do today?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. Stephen looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer were hidden in the metal above.

"Well," he said slowly, drawing out the word to be much longer than intended, "I don't know about _you_, but they're making me practice today." He made a face and looked at Zandra.

"I see," she replied, "Well then I think I'll go exploring some."

"Fun."

"Well _yeah_, I want to see the rest of Zion."

"Good point," he answered, getting up, "But I'd better get going as long as I don't know what time it is."

Zandra nodded, and got up slowly. "Hey," she asked, "do you have anything I can wear for today? I don't have anything."

Stephen smiled, "Sure, I'll see if there's anything good." He came back a minute later with a pile of clothing, of which Zandra was able to find an outfit that fit her relatively well. Soon Stephen had left, and Zandra was alone yet again. But this time she would find something to entertain herself.

She first wandered down the hall towards the elevator that she and Stephen had come up earlier. She looked over the banister next to her, down at Zion. It was small, but impressive. She figured that she was at least twenty floors up, there were so many floors and connecting hallways that went from one side of the circular city to the other. _Where to go?_ As long as she had nothing else to do, she could wander as much as she wanted. _Three floors down? _That sounded good. She stepped into the small elevator – on the inside it said 'Twenty-six', which she guessed told her what floor she was on. She pressed twenty three, and the elevator creaked slowly down the three levels to come to a rusty stop.

She stepped out warily and began to aim towards the center path that connected the two opposite sides of Zion. It looked like there was some kind of place there – she could see people sitting and standing together in clumps. Immediately she was drawn by the crowds, thinking that perhaps she'd be able to fraternize with someone _other_ than her crew for once. Upon coming closer, it looked like she was going to what looked like a bar of some sort. There was a skinny storefront that was covered with a dark fabric. It looked like there were some chairs under the overhang, as well, but she wasn't sure. Zandra figured that she would go and check it out. She approached the bar, smiling nervously at the man behind the counter.

"What can I do for ya?" he asked. Zandra noticed that he too had no plugs. 

"Ah," she started, beginning to realize that again she had no money with her, "What do you have?"

The man smiled and looked upwards, recollecting. "Well, we got your yin juice, your hickney ale, your geb juice, your _engine fluid_, your-"

"Any water?" she asked. This is probably not the time to be experimenting.

The man laughed. "But of course!" he waved his arms about, attracting the attention of many passerby's, "I've got a freeloader!"

Zandra looked around nervously hoping that the attention would soon fade, and it did. She took her water thankfully, and began to drink it at the counter. _It was free, right? Why else did he call me a freeloader..?_

The man laughed apologetically. "I'm sorry, love," he started, "Back from the tunnels?"

Zandra nodded while taking another gulp of water. It was crisp, clean… definitely refreshing.

"Ah," he said, nodding, "What crew?"

"Purgatory," she answered, pausing from her drink, the man frowned as if in thought. 

"Quite a few adventures on _that _one, I hear."

"Tell me about it," she breathed. Adventures _isn't the word I would personally use…_

"So have you met this Zandra girl?" he asked, eyes wide with curiosity. Zandra couldn't help but look incredulous.

"By the way," he added, moving back a little, "What was your name again?"

"Kemp," she answered immediately, "I'm a new recruit."

"Phew," he mused, "I was worried you were _her_ for a second." Zandra tried to laugh with him, but it ended up sounding rather strange. 

"But," he started, moving back closer to her, "Is she really like they say?"

"How do they say?" she asked, perhaps a little too quickly. But the man didn't notice her haste, and continued.

"You know," he said, looking around before continuing, "she's like a _hot-shot_ or something."

Zandra unconsciously frowned.

"Like," he continued, "She's all high and mighty," he looked at Zandra, trying to get some recognition out of her, but none came. 

"They say she killed an agent or something like that, but I don't believe it." Zandra nodded blankly. _It was three_, she silently told him.

"You know what I think?" he continued, clearly ignoring Zandra's blankness, "I think that she's just another one of those type trying to get _attention_. I mean, one kid on that crew's a cripple now… and what does _that_ say about her 'abilities', huh?"

Finished, he looked at Zandra again, looking for a response. She tried to say something, but stopped mid word. "We..ah," she said, realizing too late of how stupid she must have sounded. The man laughed good-naturedly. 

"Oh, but I don't want to overload you," he said, refilling her now empty glass, "You probably haven't known much of her yet."

Zandra nodded. Yes – she was Kemp, and therefore wouldn't know much of Zandra. The conversation finally began to take a turn for the better. 

"I tell you what though," he continued, stepping back, "I hear she's hot stuff." He finished with a resounding nod at Zandra, who tried not to return his gesture. She instead began to look outwards, back up to the walls of Zion, she tried to find Stephen's room…

"Well, I'll let you go then," he said, pushing her glass more towards her, "Go ahead," he said, "You can take it with you."

Zandra mumbled a quiet thank you and left the bar without another word. As she was leaving she noticed a few people gathering at the bar, speaking with the man, _please don't tell him!_ She hoped. Still she didn't look back as she hurried to the elevator she came down on. A little bit of her water splashed onto her pants, making her leg cold and wet. But she didn't care. She punched a random button on the elevator and let it start its slow journey.

Zandra was embarrassed and angry. She was embarrassed that someone thought she was a 'hot-shot' and had spread it all the way through Zion. She was embarrassed that she had to pretend that she was someone else in front of a stranger – why didn't she stand up for herself? She was angry that the man was so rude, who would say something like that to a crewmember of hers anyway? But maybe that also stemmed from her embarrassment. 

High and mighty? A hot shot? It sounded like someone didn't appreciate Zandra's war effort. _I thought I was doing good_, she silently whined, _do I portray myself as too good?_ Zandra's inner demons came out to play again. _What if I'm not really that impressive_, she mused, _what if it was a lie to get me to work harder? _Her mood darkened as the elevator continued down. _I would have been better back in Purgatory,_ she thought sadly to herself. But not everything the man had said was bad – just strange. He had told her that she was attractive, just indirectly.

The elevator doors opened, and Zandra walked out cautiously. Maybe this floor would offer something better.


	30. Numb

Protector of Men Ch 30

That night Zandra returned to Stephen's room with little trouble. She hadn't spoken to anyone since meeting the first man – she had been quite scarred by her first encounter. Stephen was already home, with food on his table ready for her. That night they ate together, reminiscing on their past together. They were both glad to share their past, but also sad. That night they laughed, remembering the good times that they had so many weeks ago. It seemed like an etermity ago. That night he kissed her.

The next day Kesia came to their room, and told them that both crews would be leaving in two days. Those two days went too quickly – both Stephen and Zandra were left wondering what happened to all of their free time. Zandra tried to forget their moment, but found it hard to. He had done something that he couldn't take back. But she couldn't figure out whether it was good or bad yet. It just happened. They spent their last two days together as if it hadn't happened. But it did. Now they just had to figure out what to do in its wake.

"Are you almost ready?" he asked her, standing with a small bag of things. They were still in his room – no, _apartment_, - getting ready to go to the ships. Zandra nodded.

"Yeah," she said, "I don't have anything." She held out her empty hands to explain. During their vacation, Zandra had failed to buy anything like clothing, or even apply for an apartment. It just slipped her mind. 

"Right," he said, half humorously, half uncomfortably. Ever since that night, the two had infrequent bouts of uncomfortable silences in their otherwise normal conversations. Something was different. 

"One last look," she said, turning back to the apartment before going out. It was warm and comfortable, and Zandra could almost call it home. Though she had slept on the couch all three nights that they were there, it was definitely more home-like than Purgatory. Stephen closed the door behind him and it was gone. Reluctantly, they began the long elevator journey down to the ship bay.

"So, you're going to go see the Oracle."

"Yeah," he responded slowly, "I think we'll probably go in a few days."

"Right."

"Yeah."

The elevator continued despite their strange silence. It kept the peace, creaking and humming it's way down to the ground. Without the noise, Zandra figured that she would go insane. Minute by minute. It suddenly stopped and opened its doors, and they piled out. Ahead were their ships, docked (not surprisingly, Zandra noticed,) next to each other. They approached the small group of the crews, and Stephen set down his things for a moment.

"We're waiting for Alias and Shade," Cover told her. So they waited, and Zandra talked stiltedly with Stephen for a few minutes. Soon enough Shade and Alias came. She was in a new wheelchair, carrying so much luggage that Zandra could barely see her face behind it. Shade was also carrying a pack, but it was much smaller. He shrugged at them as they approached.

"We should get going," said Colombus, looking at Stephen. She paused, looking at the both of them. "I'll give you a minute."

Stephen watched as she left towards the Mayflower. Zandra suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Well, ah," he started, rubbing his hands nervously again, "I guess I'd better get going…"

There was a long silence. _Do something!,_ They each shouted at themselves.

"Yeah," Zandra suddenly replied, "I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

Stephen nodded, and looked at the ground. _Don't lose your chance!_

"Yeah," he repeated, "Well then, ah…" he picked up his pack again, "I guess I'll go then."

Zandra felt herself seizing up, her muscles wouldn't move. _Do it! Don't hesitate!_

"Ah," she started, the words feeling strange in her mouth, "Yeah – you be careful, Stephen."

He nodded, then smiled. "I will." He took a step towards his ship, then stopped. 

_Tell him!_ Zandra screamed at herself, _Before he's gone! Tell him you'll miss him!_

But he looked back down at the ground. "See ya, then." he called, and waved. Zandra waved belatedly as he stepped into the ship. 'Bye,' she whispered, turning back to Purgatory. 

So her vacation was over. 

Alias wheeled up next to her and gave her a cheerful smile.

"Have a fun break?" she asked, exuding a sickly happiness that Zandra could tell was overdone.

"Yeah, I met some people," she answered. It was only half-true, but it was close enough. And Zandra figured that Alias would want an equally cheerful answer to her question.

"I bet that was nice," she answered. Zandra nodded facetiously. Meanwhile they reached the entrance to the ship. Shade had to help Alias go up the ramp to the main deck, but she pretended that he wasn't there.

"So are you excited to get going again?" she asked, still smiling. It was amazing how the woman was keeping it up. Zandra was amazed.

"Yeah," she answered, trying not to sound either too enthusiastic, or too unenthusiastic. Either way could be taken badly. Kemp suddenly walked in from the hallway.

"Hey _chicas_," she called, "Are we almost ready to go?"

They all nodded. Shade was now behind Zandra, quietly observing. He had had a rough time with Alias over the three days that they were in Zion; Alias kept trying to act as if everything was normal, and wouldn't admit that the reason that Shade was staying with her was because she needed help. So Shade was quiet during most of their respite, remembering that Alias was still wounded, still needed time to heal. Silence was almost becoming a habit.

"All_right_," she emphasized, waving her closed fist up and down. "I hear Cover's got us watchin' the Matrix tomorrow."

Cover came on the PA. "Kesia, Trim," he announced, "Come up to the cockpit, everyone else – we're going."

"Shit," exclaimed Kemp, "_Already_?"

Zandra couldn't keep herself from rolling her eyes. 

The rest of the night went painfully slow for Zandra. Cover had told her that they would reach their broadcast depth some time the next evening, so she had time to kill, time to sleep. But she wasn't tired, and Kemp eventually found her.

"So have you heard what we're doing?"

Zandra didn't know, and wasn't really keen on thinking about it right then. She was sitting in the mess hall, pondering over her new situation with Stephen. Or her _lack_ of a situation.

"No," came her curt reply, but Kemp didn't get the message.

"Well _I_ don't know either." She stated factually, "I just can't wait until we get into the Matrix." She started throwing imaginary punches at an invisible enemy. "I wanna see if I can kick somebody's _ass_."

Zandra sighed. 

"You don't seem excited to be here," she observed. _Well aren't you bright_, Zandra thought. Kemp gave her an evil look.

"_I _know why you're so _quiet_," she said, becoming very secretive. Did she find out about her strange interactions at Zion?

"You're after that _redhead_ guy," she said in almost a whisper, "He your _hubbie_? Miss him already?"

Zandra clenched her teeth. _Don't lose it_, she reminded herself.

"We're just friends," she answered. But Kemp could see through it – even Zandra could. Even she wasn't sure what their status was now. Kemp made a face.

"Whatever you say, _cap'n_, but I see what I _see_."

Zandra had enough. She mumbled an excuse along the lines of 'I'm tired' and went to her room. Kemp was too much to handle right now.

So, going through with her excuse, Zandra trudged over to her room. It looked the same, felt the same. She figured that she might as well sleep for now and get a head start on tomorrow. She wanted to watch Stephen, make sure he came out alright. 


	31. Destitute

Protector of Men Ch 31

_Stephen was about to leave the Oracle. His face reflected his inner turmoil; his brows were furrowed with confusion and his mouth formed a thin line of stoicism. At first he had been amazed at how much she knew, but he came to understand it. It didn't matter how she knew it, just that she did. _

The man opened the door for Stephen and bowed before closing it again. There was no one waiting for him. Stephen saw a bird fly above him, wondered if the bird was real. Of course not_. Another bird flew by. Suddenly he heard a thumping sound, it was metallic…_

"Zandra, wake up," called Kemp from the door, "Get the _hell_ up, girl!"

She shot out of bed, her eyes uneven from sleep. She had to wait a moment before the room became steady.

"I'm up," she groaned. She carefully righted herself and trudged over to the door_._

"Your _boy_ is in," Kemp said, "If you wanna be up for it, he's already there."

"Okay," she sighed, going to the main deck. At least she would be able to watch him, maybe catch up on her Matrix reading in the meantime. Kesia was watching the falling code already, and welcomed Zandra to her nook.

"He _just_ got in," she told her, "I got Kemp to wake you once he jacked in."

"Thanks," she breathed.

Stephen had just walked in to the Oracle's garden. The greenery surprised him, but he felt soothed by it. For once, he wasn't looking at machinery. He was looking at something botanical, something harmless. He failed to remember that it too was a machine just like everything else around him.

"Hello Tevy," the lady said, offering him a seat next to her on her swinging bench. He took it, and the swing moved back and forth.

"So you've come because Zandra wanted you to," she said, looking into his eyes. He nodded. 

"And you're not quite sure what to expect," she continued, almost in a question. He nodded again, and she smiled.

"Well, kid, there's nothing to worry about," she said, "I won't hurt ya."

She paused. "And I mean that in _more_ ways than one," pointing a finger at him for emphasis.

Stephen was still confused. "Why did you want me?"

She paused, her face growing long. "Tevy," she said, now serious, "Zandra is going through some tough stuff about now."

He nodded in agreement.

"And all you can do is support her as much as possible."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut in before he could respond.

"She needs someone to hold on to," she continued, "She'll look to you for relief."

He looked at her, stunned. Had she just told him what he _thought _she did? _She'll look to me for relief?_ She suddenly smiled again.

"It's a tough job loving the One," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "But _someone_ has to do it."

Stephen turned a little red, and the oracle chuckled to herself, putting her hand back in her lap. She shook her head and became quiet again.

"You've had a tough life, kid, I'll give you that," she said, clasping her hands together. "Just remember that she needs you."

She looked out towards the green, and smiled. "It's nice to get a rest, isn't it?"

Stephen wasn't sure what to say. Was she talking about Zion, or this place he was in now? He nodded though, looking outwards. It certainly was a soothing sight. The trees bent lazily with the breeze, birds chirped by a fountain in the distance. Their swing creaked gently in the background.

"I _know_ you wish you were still there," she said, turning towards him again, "But all good things have to come to an end." She paused, and started again more softly, "She knows you love her now."

Stephen looked towards the ground, fearing the next words she would say.

"Tevy… _Stephen_," she said reproachfully, "You _don't_ need to worry. She will love you no matter what happens, she just has to realize it." She paused, then added, "Always."

Stephen felt a hand pressing on his shoulder. It was the man. He was done already? This was what the oracle had to say? His face reflected his inner turmoil; his brows were furrowed with confusion and his mouth formed a thin line of stoicism. At first he had been amazed at how much she knew, but he came to understand _that_. It didn't matter how she knew it, just that she _did._ Now he was amazed at what little she had told him. There was no _future_ in her words, only puzzles that he couldn't understand. And it was over before he knew what was happening.

The man opened the door for Stephen and bowed before closing it again. There was no one waiting for him. He sighed inwardly at the scene in front of him; the botanical greenery of the oracle's hideaway was replaced by the sickly green of the destitute town. Stephen saw a bird fly above him, wondered if the bird was real. _Of course not_. Another bird flew by, following the same path as the first. _In fact_, he noticed, it looked exactly the same… _déjà vu…_


	32. Struggling for Breath

Protector of Men Ch 32

"What the hell happened?" shouted Zandra. Kesia looked afraid at her reaction.

"I don't know," she managed, scanning the screens for any sign of a problem. "What happened?" She hadn't realized that she had just posed the exact same question that Zandra had posed only moments ago.

Zandra was annoyed at Kesia's lack of understanding. "Didn't you just see that? Didn't the code just glitch?"

Kesia's eyes grew wide. "It glitched?"

Cover came in quickly, his arms folded. Zandra turned to him, almost hysterical.

"Something changed, the Matrix glitched," she exclaimed, pointing at the computers. Cover looked nonplussed. "Don't you _understand_?"

Colombus was trapped. Both she and the rest of her crew were locked in a building that now had no doors and no windows. How it happened, they had no idea. But they did know that something bad was going to happen. Colombus flipped open her phone and called Tas, her operator. 

"He's got agents coming for him," the man said immediately. It didn't sound good.

"Call Purgatory," she ordered. They would need help if he was going to live.

"Kesia, get someone in here," came Tas' voice back in Purgatory. Zandra heard it and stomped over to the chairs. She began to strap herself in.

"Put me in," she said, attaching her legs, "let me _in_."

Stephen tried not to panic. Agents, two of them, coming for him…

He began to run.

They did too.

"Kesia, _put me in_!"

"I'm going to, I just need to confirm-"

"Kesia, he _can't wait_!"

Cover started to strap Zandra's last arm into the chair. 

"I'm coming," he said as he tightened her straps. Zandra watched as he too put himself into a chair and began to strap up his legs. 

"Okay, I'll set up an entry."

"Where."

"It's about a half mile away from where he came out."

Kesia figured that it would be best not to mention that there were agents chasing him now. They knew he needed help, and she figured that information would be enough. More stress would not make Kesia work any faster, so she kept Zandra in the dark. Zandra grew more impatient as the seconds went by... _let's go, let's go_, she kept telling herself.

He was running fast – keeping a good distance away from the agents. But they were growing aggravated, growing tired of the chase. So they stopped running and decided to fight in an entirely different fashion.

Stephen suddenly felt pain shoot up his leg, his knee gave way and he was on the ground. _Shit,_ he thought, _I've been shot _alread_y…_

Colombus and the rest of her crew were still imprisoned in the building that had no portals. Finally, they decided to break down one of the walls, which took almost everything they had. After a minute or two, Colombus decided to call Kesia again.

"Is someone in?"

"Zandra and Cover."

"Damnit," she replied, "She didn't need to get involved."

Kesia was quiet with servility. 

"But he needs as much help as he can get," she continued. 

"Keep me posted," she said, and hung up before Kesia could say a meek response. She was saved the effort. 

Zandra hit the ground running, and was out of the building in seconds. Luckily, the glitch hadn't affected the one she was uploaded into. Or else Kesia had planned it that way. It didn't matter now, because Zandra needed to find Stephen. 

Cover was right behind her, and was a little slower. He knew Zandra was running on passion – on feeling, and he also knew that it could either hurt her, or help her. He hoped it would be the latter, and continued to run after her. 

"Stephen!" she shouted into the streets. No answer came. Zandra was growing desperate rapidly – who knew what this glitch had caused, and if it meant that he was in danger, she would have to be faster. 

The agents had caught up to Stephen, and were now standing over his body. He wished he could run, but he couldn't. He wished he could fight, but he couldn't. Blood trickled down his leg and formed a small puddle on the ground. It hurt, but it was a strange kind of hurt. A metallic kind of hurt. He quickly forgot the unreality of the situation, and let the pain consume his actions. Stephen wriggled jerkily under the agents' gaze.

"Mr. Witt," one of the agents said, "So _glad_ you could _drop_ in." The other agent pulled him up by his shirt and dragged him. Stephen fought, but found himself unable to move under the agent's impressive grip. 

The other agent paused, and pressed his fingers against his ear. "She is coming," he said. The other agent continued to drag Stephen towards another building. 

"Oh," he said casually, "We'll still have some time to play with this one."

"Stephen!" she shouted again into the deserted town. Again there was no answer. Her voice was already becoming hoarse from her screams. _Where do I run to?_ She asked herself hopelessly, _I don't know where to go…_

Her phone rang.

"Zandra, he's being pulled into a building down the street to your right," she told her. That was all Zandra needed. She hung up the phone and hastily jammed it into her pocket, resuming her extraordinary pace. Cover was still behind her, having gained little ground from her momentary pause. 

He was now against the wall of a room. Both agents had guns trained on him, silently warning him of further injury.

"Mr. _Witt_," said one, "_Enlighten_ us."

"Your friend's little project," the other started, "Had evidence of the Matrix."

"We'd like to know _how_, in fact, she found it." They both paused, giving him a chance to respond. Yet he didn't. 

"_Come_ now," warned one of the agents, now aiming his Eagle at Stephen's head, "We'd like to know."

Stephen's leg still hurt from it's first wound.

Zandra had found the street that Kesia had told her about, but to her dismay, there were buildings lining each side of the street. Which one was it? Cover was catching up to her now that she had slowed down. Her heartbeat was still slow, but Cover's was racing. _Where to go… where to go…_

"Stephen!" she shouted again

This time Stephen heard her. The agents did as well, and they looked at each other before one of them walked out of the room.

"Mr. Witt," the remaining one continued, "Do you have _anything_ to say before we speak with Ms. Richards?" Stephen said nothing. 

"I'm _sorry_ to hear that," he said, and shot again.


	33. Human Conclusions

Protector of Men Ch 33

Brown came out to meet her and Cover. He strode over to them casually, enjoying every moment that he wasted for her, enjoying the look on her face as he walked over to them as if he were on an casual evening stroll. He especially enjoyed watching her expression change from horror, to rage, to impatience – his was an expression of carelessness. He wore a sick smile as he walked up to her.

"Where is he?" she asked, spitting out the words as if they were sour in her mouth. She couldn't waste time talking with this machine, she had to _go_, had to get Stephen.

"Oh, Ms. _Richards_, let's not be hasty _again_," he said, "We remember what _happens_ when we are _hasty_?"

He was talking about her previous run-in, when she had tried to escape from the car when she was kidnapped. 

"That wasn't _haste_," she replied. Brown pressed his earpiece against his head and turned to one of the buildings. Cover was silent behind Zandra, as they waited for something to happen. In a moment Jones came out, hauling Stephen's unmoving body by the back of his shirt. Zandra held in her panic as they dragged him out of the building, and into her obvious sight. He was bloodied and bedraggled, Zandra dreaded the feeling welling up inside her – _he's dead…_

"_No_, Ms. Richards," Jones said, "He's _not_ dead."

"But he _could _be if he doesn't talk," said Brown. Jones reloaded his gun and pointed it at Stephen's face.

_Don't give in_, he shouted at himself, _don't tell them!_ He knew that he probably wouldn't get out of this alive, and was now resolute in his decision not to speak. If he was going to die soon, he might as well let it happen while saving the integrity of their one weapon – at least the one weapon he had heard of. He knew that if he spoke, the machines would be able to fix whatever Alex had found out in her project, and change it so that the Matrix wouldn't be observable. He had to stay silent, for the rest of the resistance.

"Mr. _Witt_," said Brown, turning back towards the injured Stephen, "We will only ask _one_ more time."

Jones sighed, still aiming his weapon at the defenseless Stephen.

"Ms. Richards," he started, letting his arm fall to his side, "Is there anything _you'd_ like to tell us?"

The situation was getting worse by the second. Should she speak, and tell them what the inherent glitch was, or should she stay quiet and risk Stephen's life? Both of her choices were undesirable, but if she had to choose, which would she? Time ticked by as she vacillated between her two decisions. Cover silently pleaded with her, _don't tell, don't tell…_

"The glitch," Stephen started, his breathing growing labored under the stress from the two wounds, "It's-"

"_That's_ right, Mr. Witt, you can _tell_ us," started Jones. Brown gave him a dirty look, and he became quiet again.

"It's ah," he scrambled for the words under the intense pressure of both his injuries and his risk of further injury, "It was how black holes… when we saw them… the forces…" Stephen was now gasping for breath. Zandra wanted to help him, but knew she couldn't move. _Don't do this!_

"And?" asked Jones, ignoring Brown. He shoved the gun closer to Stephen's face, and he began to speak again.

"It, ah," he was having trouble remembering his train of thought, his mind kept eluding him… "it… showed the Matrix…." He _had_ to continue if he wanted to live, "how it changes….."

Jones smiled, and pocketed his gun. 

But Brown didn't smile, and didn't move his gun. He gave Jones another look, which was not returned. Zandra was stuck, unable to do anything in their dire situation. _What has he done?,_ she silently lamented.

Brown aimed his gun and shot. Three times. And then he shot at Jones, who was terminated in a blinding flash. Stephen lay on the ground and didn't move.

The shots echoed in Zandra's mind before she could even anticipate it. It was already over before she registered what had just happened.

Brown then turned to Zandra and Cover, and aimed his gun at them. She wouldn't have it. Before he could pull the trigger, she was on him, turning his own gun on himself, pulling the trigger for him. He too was then terminated in another white flash. Gone. Now it was just her and Cover and Stephen. He writhed once on the ground, letting out his breath in staccato expulsions.

"Stephen," she cried, falling to his side. He had three new gaping holes in his abdomen, one in his leg and one in his shoulder. Blood was spilling from him and onto the dirty ground, running across the cracks of the cobbles as if searching for a home. He began to cough, and turned to his side to let blood pour out of his mouth. The bullet wounds began to froth with each desperate sigh of breath. His eyes were wild with pain and shock. He was losing, he knew it.

"Stephen, don't _do_ this," she told him, taking his hand. He held it limply, and tried to tell Zandra, _I'm sorry, I had to…_

"Alex," he whispered, specks of blood spraying into the air. It was all he could manage. It hurt too much to breathe, he might as well just quit.

"_No_! Stephen," she repeated, tears forming on her eyes. Cover merely stood where he was. There was nothing he could do.

"I'll… I'll be…," he mouthed. He coughed again, and threw up blood on Zandra. She didn't care. She gripped his hand tighter and drew it to her chest. She could smell the blood in the air, and feel it on her hands and clothes. It was damp and warm, giving her the only solace she would find in the desperate scene. Her tears fell onto Stephen and meshed with his blood, flowing thicker and darker with each second.

"It's not _real_," she repeated, watching him grow more distant. His coughing grew more shallow, his eyes began to wander. "Don't go," she whispered, holding on to his hand, wishing he would never let go…

He sighed a last time and was finished. Stephen was no more.


	34. Afterwards

Protector of Men Ch 34

"No," she shouted at his lifeless body, "It's not real!"

Cover wasn't sure what to do. Stephen was gone, and at any moment the agents could come back to finish the job. He tentatively put a consoling hand on Zandra's shoulder, but it didn't work as he expected it to. She shoved him away fiercely – Cover stumbled backwards, struggling to stay upright.

"No," she shouted louder, "_Stephen_!" She held his hand tighter against her chest, but he did not respond. The blood had long stopped running from his poor injured vessel. 

"It's _not real_!" she screamed, shaking his arm. Cover couldn't watch it any longer.

"Zandra," he told her, "We should go."

She collapsed onto his immobile body and sobbed. "Don't go, don't go," she repeated, over and over into his bloody chest. But he didn't respond; he was already gone. It was over. 

It was truly over before it even started. She heard footsteps approaching, and only then did she pull herself away from Stephen. His body.

Two agents were walking briskly over to where Zandra and Cover stood. It was Brown and Jones, but they were not speaking. As they grew closer, they both pulled out their guns. Cover prepared himself, but Zandra did nothing. They wouldn't shoot her now.

"Zandra," he warned. She still did nothing, was still staring mindlessly at Stephen's unmoving cadaver. Someone would pay for Stephen's death, and that was the only thing on her mind.

They began to shoot at her, both emptying their clips. But they didn't injure her. Zandra wouldn't allow it. Cover merely watched in wonder as the bullets slowed to a stop before her and bounced to the ground. Shot after shot was ineffective, falling to the cobblestone ground. She had done it. She was the One. Cover watched in amazement; Zandra hadn't even realized the line she had crossed. Everything was quiet, and Zandra was surrounded by a shower of bullets that lay like rice on the ground. She had done it; she had finally taken complete control. She stood with teary eyes, looking up to the sky as if looking for an answer, as Stephen lay in a pool of blood next to her.

She looked down at the mess of ammunition when the agents ran out of bullets, then to the agents. For a moment, everyone was silent and unmoving, but only for a second. The next thing Cover saw were the agents running for the hills. The agents had been defeated. Cover's mind was going in circles: _She was the One._

He sighed a breath of relief – their immediate danger was long gone, now that the agents had left. 

"Let's go," he started, walking towards her, "While we have the chance."

Zandra was still looking down at the ground. The bullets looked so harmless on the ground – _how could they have killed anyone?_ They were just wasted trash, waiting to be picked up and thrown away by some unknowing coppertop. "I'm not leaving," she said in a dark voice. 

"We _have_ to _go_," he told her again, reaching for her shoulder. 

"No!" she suddenly screamed, "I'm not going!"

And she ran away from him.

Cover was left alone with Tevy's body, and had no idea what to do. So he called up Kesia.

"Where did she go?" he asked, waiting for a reponse. It took her a minute, and she sounded very strange when she did. 

"I don't know," she managed, "Her code's all screwed up."

"We need to get Tevy out," he told her. He heard Kesia sigh loudly.

"Colombus should be getting out soon," she answered slowly, "I think she'll want to take him."

So Cover left the matrix, having lost not only one, but two members of the rebellion. No one said a word to him once he was back, but they were all watching the falling code, searching for a sign of Zandra. By all accounts, she had completely disappeared.

He waited a moment before getting back out of his chair. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what they had to tell him. Not yet. But he still got up. 

Kesia was watching him warily from her operator's seat. Things were not looking good: Tevy was dead, and Zandra was refusing to jack out. Four other pairs of eyes also peered out from the room's corners, silently asking him for direction. As of then, he had none to give.

Kesia turned back to the computers.

"I think I see her," she said after a moment, her face only inches away from the screen.

"Where?"

"Looks like the Oracle's door."

Shade couldn't stay quiet any longer: "Should we go in?"

"No," came Cover's resolute reply, "She'll have to come back on her own."

Shade didn't agree, but said nothing. It was one thing to silently disagree with his captain, but a completely different thing to voice it. So Shade simmered and joined the rest of the crew as they watched the code for Zandra.

She pounded against the door, but there was no response. No answer came, and Zandra was left banging hopelessly against the wooden door. _She had to know_, she fumed, her pounds becoming more violent, _she could have helped them_! By now she had lost hope of anyone opening the door.

Zandra stopped her beating and sized up her wooden opponent. If they wouldn't let her in, she'd fight her way in. She pooled her energy, and kicked the door, letting it swing on its hinges before pushing it open. 

But the Oracle wasn't there.

"She's just standing there." Kesia turned to Cover, who was behind her, watching the code intermittently. He sighed, and took a closer look. Everyone else stood where they were, stunned. How could this have happened?

Zandra was angry. If the Oracle was going to hide, she'd find Neo instead. Someone would pay. And though she wasn't anywhere near the place where she had met him last, she still would search. Maybe Neo would find her if she made it obvious that she needed him.

"Neo," she shouted into the sky as loud as she could. There was no response after a minute or so of waiting.

"Come _on_," she shouted aloud, her frustration rising. She would not leave without finding out who was responsible for Stephen. His _death…_

Her lip began to tremble, and the floodgates were finally broken. His death echoed in her mind. _Killed._ She couldn't believe that he was gone – that she had failed him in the irreparable situation of death. He was dead, and it was too late to save him. Her friend – no - _more_ than that, was gone.

_No_, she had to stay strong. To avenge him.

"_Neo!_" she shouted, wondering if he would hear her. She could recall Emory telling her that he would find her if she wanted him. But Neo was nowhere to be seen.

Zandra looked about her in the desolate town. She was suddenly surprised that no agents had come to counter her._ But that didn't matter_, she then decided, she needed to find Neo. _If he hadn't told her to see the Oracle, Stephen wouldn't be dead. _Zandra was still looking for vengeance, and the blame had to be placed somewhere.

"She's looking for the informant?" 

Kesia looked closer before answering.

"It looks like it," she replied, still watching the code. 

Alias inched towards the screens, suddenly interested in something.

"Where are the agents?" she asked, wheeling her chair as close as she could.

"Hm," Kesia wondered aloud, scanning each of the screens in turn, "I can't see them _anywhere_."

"They may have decided to keep their distance," Cover postulated. Kesia could neither confirm nor deny his theory.

"What's that?" asked Alias, nearly toppling out of her chair as she pointed towards one of the screens. Alias steadied herself again as the rest of the crew watched the screens with a mixture of fascination and trepidation.

Zandra was back on the street, desperate for an answer, for contact…

"Neo!" she shouted at the sky, "_Neo!_"

It seemed hopeless. Zandra was worried that she'd have to go back to Purgatory, act as if nothing had happened, pretend that she was ok, that she wasn't dying inside as Stephen's inert body lay in the Mayflower, waiting to be interred somewhere in a vault...

There was no answer. Zandra let her hands fall to her sides with a resounding smack: her search was proving useless. Just like _her._ If she had only been firmer, faster, _better…_

She heard footsteps behind her and instantly turned around. But she hadn't expected the person greeting her. 

"I hear you're looking for a _Neo_," the man said, taking off his dark sunglasses. Zandra saw him grimace at the mention of the name. He was wearing a suit and tie, and had the same general appearance of the agents Zandra had so often encountered. But she had a feeling that this was no agent. He wore no earpiece, nor the smirk that Brown and Jones regularly wore.

"I'll let you know," he continued, taking a step closer, "I've been looking for him for a _quite_ a _time_." He looked down on the ground, and crushed a spider crawling past them. He smiled.

"I'm sure you won't mind _assisting_."


	35. Many Meetings

Protector of Men Ch 35

"She's been in too long," Shade said, breaking the strange silence, "Someone needs to bring her in."

Cover put up a hand, gesturing for him to be quiet. Too much was happening for them to be sidetracked. He was annoyed when Kesia suddenly spoke again, alerting him to a new flash on her switchboard.

"Cover," she said, asking for his attention. He reluctantly pulled himself away from the screens. His glare told her to be quick.

"The Mayflower's requesting a line," she told him. His face fell, and he nodded a few times. Colombus suddenly appeared on one of the screens, her visage dark with weariness.

"We got him out," she told them. Random nods came from Purgatory; no one wanted to say anything in the somber situation. She sighed heavily and hung her head for a moment. 

"Well, she continued, looking back at the camera, "We'll be heading back to Zion tonight so we can have a proper ceremony."

Again Purgatory nodded. Cover suddenly spoke up.

"I'm sure we'll all come," he added, hoisting himself into the camera's range. Kesia accommodated him silently.

Colombus nodded, then produced a weak smile and said her good-byes. Silence pervaded the walls of Purgatory once again.

"Look, if I _knew_ where he was," Zandra answered, "I wouldn't be out _here_."

_The man certainly doesn't give up easily_, she thought angrily. She had better things to do than talk with this mystery man. She had someone's life to avenge.

"You must know of him, Miss…"

"Zandra," she answered in a huff, "I don't have _time_ for this." The man sneered, but kept his cool He put his sunglasses back on. "You are trying what _little_ patience I posses," he warned.

_I don't have time for this!_

The man pulled out his gun and caressed it as a mother would a child. He then looked at Zandra. _What little I have left_, he reminded himself, _don't ruin your last chance to fulfill your duty._

"What do you want _him_ for?" she asked quickly. Maybe he had a good reason to go after him. After all, Zandra figured, Neo did help to send Stephen to his death…

The man hastily put his gun away.

"Mister _Anderson_," he said with a sigh, "Has been my backache for a _long_ time now."

Zandra nodded at the ground. She was getting nowhere, but she also figured that this person would not be good pissed off. The man stared off into oblivion, digesting his situation. _This girl is strange_, he thought to himself. He was perplexed by her lack of fear, her naivete…

She stepped back and ran an agitated hand through her hair, distracted by something. He noticed that there was blood on her hands that now streaked her otherwise sunny locks. She was now looking at the sky, her arms flopping at her sides as if they yearned for something more to do, to hold on to.

"_Neo_!" she suddenly screamed, almost startling him. _Too loud_, he immediately thought, _she'll attract undue attention!_

"Miss…" he trailed, trying to grab her arm. He missed. His tone was full of warning, but she took no heed. She easily pulled her arm away from his grip and left him powerless for a moment. He couldn't kill her for the information she could posses, and he was so consumed by his obsession that he would not leave. Not until his existence was threatened, which he feared would be soon.

"Neo," she said in almost a whisper, "_Neo_."

Her arms fell to her sides and she began to sob. Smith thought about pulling out his gun again, but thought better of it. She looked at her bloody hands and sobbed even harder. _He's gone._

Zandra suddenly became quiet as she registered the sound of footsteps approaching her in the pallid street. She turned and looked out towards the road, noticing that the man also had a keen interest in the regular din of pattering feet. Neither had recognized the glitch that would have alerted the two to their new common threat. 

Zandra realized that she would have to defeat these newly approaching foes in order to complete her vengeance. Stephen was still fresh in her mind. Freshly killed… Fresh meat. The three agents continued to walk stiffly towards them, almost tempting Zandra to run. But for some reason, she hesitated.

They suddenly stopped for a moment; one pressed his earpiece against his head.

"_You_ again," another one hissed, taking a step closer. It took Zandra a second to realize that he wasn't talking to her, but the man behind her. She backed away slowly, hoping that _maybe_ these agents weren't meant for her. 

Smith was silently weighing his options. Either he could run, and trample down his own dignity in the process, or he could fight all three of them. Neither option seemed desirable, but he opted for the latter. Still, he wished that he were still safe, back when the three agents' existences were not necessary. Yet, he was almost glad to have someone to fight with. Thirty years alone was too much to bear.

"Yes," he said mockingly, adjusting his already impeccable tie, "_Me_ again." He enjoyed the sensation of mockery, and quickly got back into his old feeling, brought back his old attitude. He prepared himself for the impending fight.

The three agents flew at the man, moving so fast that Zandra could not even see their rapid movements. Smith was instantly off the ground, but he wasn't done. He tripped one of the agents, and pinned him. The other two were busy trying to synchronize their movements, and weren't able to get to him fast enough. A moment later Zandra saw two of the man, and two agents.

__

What?

She took her opportunity and fled, hoping that not only would the same phone still work, but that Kesia would be watching, waiting. Zandra's heart fell as she envisioned Kesia watching her break, watching Stephen leave her when she needed him the most…

No one chased her as the continued to run to the familiar building. No one barged in as she waited for Kesia to call. No one cared enough.

Everyone was there to see her out again. Alias sat in her chair next to Zandra, holding a mottled rag. No one said anything as they took out her needle and undid her straps. Zandra tried to avoid looking anyone in the eye. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry… _Or was that die?_ She didn't want to think.

Cover began to say something.

"No," she managed, pulling herself out of her chair. Cover looked surprised, but she didn't care. She needed to be alone, and he conceded that right to her. He nodded once, and Zandra left for her bunk. Kemp followed her. 

Zandra landed on her bed with a heavy thud, and faced away from the girl. Kemp would not see the silent tears streaming down her face, but heard her intermittent sniffles. Naively, she thought that her story would ease Zandra's pain.

"_Hey_ girl," she said, sitting on the floor opposite Zandra's bed. Zandra ignored her.

"I know you feel pretty bad about now," she continued, rubbing a hand across her own barely fuzzy head. Zandra was still silent. _Pretty horrible_ didn't even start to describe it. Purgatory seemed too tame a term to use as her refuse now – but 'hell' would do the trick nicely. She was quiet again, which gave Kemp the erroneous cue to continue. 

"Just wanted to tell you I know a little of what you're going through…"

_Know what I'm going through?_ Zandra sniffled. 

"… And," she continued, still rattling on, "I'm _here_ for ya girl."

_Here for ya?_

Girl?

She's just too loud for herself, Zandra told herself_. It's not her fault if she doesn't know anything about her and Stephen…_

Zandra erupted into a fit of tearful hiccoughs as she thought of him again.

_Gone._ Before she got a chance to tell him how she had felt for so long.

"It's alright," Kemp cooed, inching closer, "It's gonna be alright…"

Zandra was becoming more and more angry with each word that Kemp blasted out of her mouth. _It won't be alright_, she silently mourned, _it'll never be alright_. Kemp went up to her bed and caressed her convulsing shoulder; Zandra was as polite as possible in pushing her away Kemp was silent.

"Please," Zandra managed between sobs.

"Please what, girl?" came her soulful rely, full of caring and concern.

"Please," she repeatedly begged, "Go _away_."

It did what Zandra had hoped – Kemp let out a quiet sigh and left the room without another word, and at the moment, she didn't care if Kemp was hurt. No one was as hurt as Stephen. As her sobs grew louder and more unmanageable, she wondered if he had been in pain. _Probably so._

_If only I couldn't done something!_ Zandra pounded her fist against the wall in a sudden torrent of emotion. She pulled her arm back, throbbing from an impact that was more painful than she expected. It all just made her cry more. She didn't care if the crew heard her. Nothing much mattered anymore. 


	36. Stinted Pauses

Protector of Men Ch 36

Stephen's funeral came and went. It was a quick yet painful affair: it started with a poignant eulogy (delivered by a stoic Colombus) and ended with his ashes placed in Zion's vault. Zandra had tried her best to keep her composure in public. 

The funeral had almost been a joke to her. Stephen would have laughed at its ridiculous brevity and detachedness. Zandra felt like Colombus' speech had barely even begun to describe his greatest qualities. He had been her best friend -no, more than that. But she was silent during the event.

Everyone else was silent, as well. Cover had been in a continual state of shock since the event had transpired – Tevy was the first person to be killed personally by an agent, the second killed at all. And the things Zandra had done afterwards...maybe Tevy's death had allowed Zandra to become the one. There was no question about her abilities, but now Cover wasn't sure how she could gain control again. To fight again.

Alias was not as shocked. She had toyed with the feeling of gratefulness for being alive, but now regarded it as disrespectful. Yet, she still harbored the thought in the back of her mind. Yes, she was crippled, and _yes_, she'd never be able to contribute like she used to, but she was alive. There was no guilt. And though she could have easily blamed Zandra for both of their current conditions, she didn't. Alias herself was more at fault for her own injury than anyone else, and she understood it.

Shade was pained by the death, but not because of Stephen. Over the past weeks he had almost forgotten how attracted he was to Zandra – and now that she was mourning, he only yearned to be there for her. After Alias' accident he had been there for Alias, and no one else. Even then, Alias wouldn't admit that he was with her because of the accident. She insisted that it was because of a 'mutual attraction'. Shade let her think what she wanted, but inside felt like he was lying. It was as if Shade hadn't seen Zandra in weeks. He hated to see her tearless face, knowing that inside she was falling apart. And all because of another man. Not to say that he wasn't saddened by the event, but that it caused him to re-evaluate his feelings. He knew he cared for her, but also knew that now was not the time. For then, he would have to let his demons eat away at each other while he watched her in pain. There would be nothing he could do to make her feel better.

Trim and Kemp hadn't been as affected as the rest of the crew. Though Trim was indeed saddened by Stephen's passing, he was more surprised by it. Someone was _dead_. And if Trim was going to keep jacking in, he'd have to toughen up. Things weren't the same anymore.

Kemp was still getting to know everyone, so she had no close emotional ties to Stephen. Nor did she completely understand the sheer impact of his death. The first close casualty of war.

She had long given up on comforting Zandra. Kemp understood that she didn't want comforting, and was therefore generally quiet since that night. It was a change that Purgatory was glad to have – even though it cost Kemp some of her pride. It was true though – she _did_ know some of Zandra's pain. And she knew what could happen when grief turned on the mourner. Kemp was just glad that she got out of the Matrix when she did. She probably wouldn't have been able to take much more.

The Mayflower's reactions had been much more general. They mourned the loss of their new recruit. They mourned their own inability to save him. None would have fathomed that Zandra would blame herself; they figured that if they had truly been prepared, Stephen never would have found himself in the agents' possession in the first place.

So they all sat together, mourning for their own private reasons. They were at the restaurant that Stephen and Zandra had dined at only a few days ago – eating together after the funeral, like a wake. Almost everyone was silent during the meal.

"Thank you," Colombus quietly said as the waiter handed her another drink. He nodded once and left. Colombus took a sip and looked at Cover.

"Are you planning on heading out soon?" she asked him across the table, quickly attracting everyone's focus. She didn't care, as long as they didn't say anything out of place. Cover sighed before answering.

"I think we'll wait a week or two before going back out," he replied, glancing at each crewmember in turn. Zandra didn't return his look, and kept staring at her food, having not eaten it. It was hard for her to focus on anything. Everyone was quiet again, and some began to peck at their dinners. Others stared disjointedly about the restaurant in search of solace. None found any. They finished their dinner with few words passed around, and parted ways for the night. Zandra found herself being carted off with Kesia and Kemp, while Shade and Alias parted together. It seemed to Zandra that they were always together as of late – either Alias was still having trouble, or there was something more. Something more, something that she didn't have. Zandra tried not to think of that. _Everything_ reminded her of Stephen.

The three girls bunked in Kesia's apartment – Kesia on one bed, Zandra on another, and Kemp on the couch. Kesia and Kemp got to sleep fairly quickly, but Zandra stayed awake. It wasn't that she didn't want to sleep – she was too far gone to worry about nightmares to skip sleep – it was that her mind would not let her. Her thoughts kept leading her in circles that inevitable led to Stephen. Their feelings_. Her feelings_.

She finally gave up and got out of bed. Kesia, in the bed next to her, sighed and switched sides. Kemp was silent on the couch. Zandra made her bed and walked to the door. Maybe a walk would help.

She was as quiet as possible opening the door, but it still creaked in protest while she opened and closed it. Hopefully Kesia and Kemp hadn't heard her. She waited a second before leaving the door. _Two-four-nine_, she noted before walking to the elevator, _two-four-nine._

The elevator went down five levels before stopping to let someone on. Zandra didn't acknowledge them, and instead got off at the stop. She didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment, and she didn't want to risk them recognizing her. She remembered with embarrassment the last time that she was almost recognized. 

The floor she was on was rather desolate. There was no bar with a canopy, no chairs to rest in, just a bare hallway that connected the one side of Zion to the other. There was nothing to find on this floor. She crossed the hallway to the other elevator.

"Zandra," a voice called, and instantly her pulse raced. She imagined two things happening – either it was a crewmember asking why she was out, or it was a stranger who had something to say. She dreaded both, but it was neither. It was the embarrassed lady, the councilor that Zandra had met so long ago. She was dressed differently now, and was walking slowly to where Zandra stood from a door down the hallway. Zandra couldn't read her expression.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, coming closer. Zandra made a face, then nodded. There was no way to get out of it, and Zandra silently lamented her position. But it wasn't horrible.

"Neither can I," responded the councilor. She suddenly backed up, seemingly surprised at something.

"I never introduced myself," she blustered, thrusting out her hand so Zandra could shake it. She did, with a little hesitation.

"I'm Councilor Yogere," she continued, now smiling. Zandra tried to return the gesture, but found herself unable to.

"What brings you back to Zion?" she asked. Zandra took a second to answer, making sure that she would be able to stay tear-free.

"Actually," she responded slowly, "A friend of mine…" her lip started to tremble again – _don't lose it in front of her!_

"Tevy," she responded with a knowing nod, "I'm sorry."

Zandra nodded quickly and jerkily, and they were both quiet for a second.

"A lot has changed," she continued, "The system used to turn a blind eye to us, but now I think they see us as a real threat. A lot of changes everywhere…" she said, trailing off.

"Really," Zandra asked. She was mildly curious.

"We've had to stop meeting every rebel," she said with a frown, "There are just too many."

Zandra was confused.

"Recruitment's been booming," she continued, "It's truly amazing." She walked over to the banister in front of them, and looked down at the expanses of Zion. "_Truly amazing_," she repeated. Zandra nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

"I'll let you go," the councilor said nicely, "You should get some rest."

Zandra nodded at the thought, and said a quick goodbye before departing for the elevator again. Five floors back up, and she began to walk to Kesia's room. _Two-four-nine._

Again the door protested as she slunk in, but neither Kesia nor Kemp awoke. She sat back down into her bed, but didn't sleep. For the next two weeks, she slept with constant trouble, and awoke hours before Kemp or Kesia did. Many times she wandered Zion, sometimes she did not. Stephen was always on her mind. Each day they lazed about the city, many times meeting up with the rest of Purgatory or the Mayflower to eat or 'relax'. Generally though, they all found it hard to. But their grieving couldn't last forever – there was still a war being waged. 


	37. Questionable Intentions

Protector of Men Ch 37

It had been sixteen days since the crews had arrived in Zion, and Zandra was becoming antsy. Though she was still grieving, she knew that Stephen would have wanted them to get back to the war effort. Whatever _that_ was. She was still quiet, but was mentally getting ready to leave. 

They were finishing dinner as a group. Cover sat next to Zandra, on his other side was Alias. Kemp, Kesia, and Shade were on the opposite end of the table, and Trim was at the head. For a moment he enjoyed the thought of leading the group, but it was a fleeting feeling. They were chatting irregularly, with more uncomfortable pauses as the subject wore thin. After a few minutes they gave up, and left the table for their bunks. It would be another uneventful day. 

"Zandra," Cover asked under his breath, touching her wrist. She was about to leave with Kesia and Kemp, but turned around. Cover looked serious.

"A few days ago the Calling contacted us," he started, folding his arms. Zandra's heart fell – folded arms did not mean good things.

"They said the oracle-" Zandra's eyes widened at the thought, _she's showing herself!_ – "contacted them."

Zandra nodded furtively. Zandra might finally be able to get revenge. _Maybe._

"She said that she wants to speak with you-"

Zandra sighed. _Speaking_ wasn't what was going to happen if Zandra had her way. Cover sighed too.

"- but only if you are willing." His eyes had the look of a parent's, reproaching, questioning. Zandra digested the words thoughtfully. He waited while she thought, watching her eyes for any sign of a decision. 

"I'll go," she said plainly. She hid her true emotions, her rage and contempt.

"Are you _willing_?"

"Yes," she replied, almost offended by his repetition. He shook his head.

"Okay," he sighed, uncrossing his arms, "We'll head out in a few days then."

Zandra nodded and took her opportunity to leave. So it was done. She walked back to Kesia's room, her head a sudden explosion of thought. Soon the Oracle would regret her actions, or in this case, her lack of action… and Stephen would be avenged. A small part of Zandra hoped unconsciously that perhaps vengeance would take away the pain of his death. _Two-four-nine._

She was going back to the oracle. And the oracle was showing herself. Zandra would be able to get to her. But certainly the woman would know her feelings – the uncontrollable rage that she had been in once Stephen had been killed… 

She sighed sadly, remembering why she was so angry. How could she forget?

If the oracle had really been the cause of Stephen… his death… then there was no doubt in Zandra's mind that the woman could do the same to her. So if she was really going to do it, she'd have to hide her motivations until the moment of truth. 

_But how?_ If she was an oracle, she'd see it coming. Zandra sighed in frustration, going into Kesia's room. They silently greeted her as she entered.

"We're going," she told them frankly. They both looked confused.

"What?" Kemp asked, getting out of her chair.

"We're leaving soon," she repeated.

"Now?"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly, "In a few days."

They both nodded in comprehension, and went back to what they were doing. Nothing.

Two days later they were packed and ready to go. They piled into Purgatory quietly and purposefully, ready to do what they were meant to do. Fight the war. Even Zandra understood. Within a few minutes, they had touched off and were on their way to leaving Zion. Zandra silently said her permanent good-byes to Stephen. Back to the grind, back to work.

The first stage of Zandra's effort was over. The learning was over, the connection to the Matrix was gone, because of Stephen's death. She had learned her limits, she had learned others' limits, and realized that the two were very different. In the process, she lost what was dear to her – but it made her see the truth. It wasn't real. None of it was. All the pain came from the lies, and it would only be fixed if others knew the truth. And that was her job now. 

Veritas. Truth.

End of Part One – click on my name to find part II and III.


End file.
